


Redamancy

by Ilguna



Series: Halcyon [2]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Blood and Gore, District 4 (Hunger Games), F/M, Fluff, Forced Prostitution, Gore, Minor Character Death, Murder, Pre-Canon, Prostitution, annie cresta's games, ethereal, i continue to break canon, it's a triology y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:47:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 96,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28258689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilguna/pseuds/Ilguna
Summary: it's time to forgive and repair.SEQUEL TO: Belamour.
Relationships: Capitol Citizens/Finnick Odair, Finnick Odair/Reader, Finnick Odair/You
Series: Halcyon [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2070090
Comments: 7
Kudos: 26





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I give you (Gallows) a last name to fit the universe.

A silent warning, the look that your mother used to give you right after you did something that you weren’t supposed to. Do it again, and you would be sat in the corner or go to bed early so that you wouldn’t cause trouble for the rest of the day. You were a well-behaved kid most days, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t earn the look a couple of times.

After both of your parents died, you stopped getting that look. Reed couldn’t replicate it, Mox didn’t like scaring you into submission. Not to mention, there was no reason to get into trouble. Your days were spent under the grey clouds, always waiting for the one thing that would trip the rain. Getting your brother’s angry could very well be the last straw.

You understood that life was hard enough without your shenanigans. Might as well be compliant so you four could get through it. Later in life, hopefully you’d be able to rekindle that childish behavior. Plus, you learned a new trick when it came to identifying when Reed was at his breaking point.

A monotone voice, cold eyes, stiff behavior. He wouldn’t entertain your jokes, wouldn’t answer your questions unless they were dire. The final giveaway would be Mox in the bedroom and Reed in the kitchen, chopping dinner a little too hard. With how close Reed and Mox are–less than a year apart–they’re practically twins. They hardly ever fight, but when it happens, it’s never pretty.

Walking on eggshells in a house that silent is practically impossible. You used to just pick up whatever you were working on and leave. Go next door to Naida’s house, or literally disappear until it was dinner time. As soon as dinner was over, it was time to shut yourself in your room and not come out until morning.

As you got older, and as money stopped being so tight, nights like that loosened. No more silent evenings, no more tense nights. The last time you ever got the ‘you’re in trouble’ or ‘someone’s in trouble’ treatment was years ago.

However, staring into Elysia’s eyes right now, you’ve discovered that you still get the same fear as you used to. When every little moment where you’ve ever done something wrong, crosses your mind until you land on the worse one. And then you think, “How the fuck did she find out?”

Your tributes don’t notice, completely clueless on the newfound tension that’s entered the room.

“Go shower and get ready for supper.” you tell the tributes, barely taking your eyes from Elysia’s long enough to look at the tributes, “Elysia will get you when it’s time.”

They take off towards their rooms without a word. Neither you or Elysia move from where you stand, as if that movement will set off the other. Once the two of you hear that the doors have shut loudly, she eases. You straighten up a little, fingers crossed that you didn’t just fuck up this mentoring thing.

It’s only your second year. Last year was the test run, the blueprint for how the future years would go. Anchor and Mags made the job out to be hard, but you and Finnick have got it figured out so far. That doesn’t mean that there aren’t grey areas still, cause there definitely is.

“What’s the matter?” you ask, eyebrows twitching.

“Finnick came back from the mansion about half an hour ago.” she says, she’s hesitating. You watch her open her mouth, and then close it.

“So? I’m sure that things are fine. I’ve got to talk to him about sponsors anyway.”

She shakes her head, “He looked upset, I’d give him some space until dinner. I think he needs to think.”

“Did he tell you the problem?”

Elysia shakes her head again. You decide to believe her for now, but you’ll definitely be asking Finnick questions after dinner. You and him normally tell each other things, even after bad news. Keeping things from each other, especially during mentoring, isn’t the brightest idea. Last year you found out that communication and determination is what makes a good team. Your tributes made the top eight, which is a huge ass improvement from the past tributes.

You tell Elysia that you’ll be back before supper, you’ve still got stuff to do. It’s done relatively quickly, since you’re only meeting with a tattoo artist to map out where you’ll be getting your Blaire tattoo. It’s a ‘D3’ on the back of your neck, which is going to be pretty hidden by your hair unless you bring it up.

Reed and Mox didn’t like the idea at first, neither did Laurel when you expressed it over the phone. But all three of them came around once they saw that there was a sentimental value behind it. You’ll be getting the tattoo done sometime during the training days when your tributes are in the gymnasium. Finnick’s already agreed to start persuading people to keep an eye on your tributes.

When you come back around, you lay out your evening clothes and take a cold shower to wake yourself up again. Elysia comes and gets you last. You figure this out when you come out and see that everyone is already at the table eating. You take your spot next to Finnick, and watch as he moves his hand to his lap.

You press your lips together, pausing to decide whether or not you’ll be able to handle this. The silent treatment, the obvious avoidance and discomfort. You hated it when your brothers did it, so it’s worse now that your own boyfriend is doing it. For a moment, you’re about to call the tattoo artist and ask to get it over and done with so that you won’t have to come back until late in the night. 

You don’t act on it, only consider. You decide that you have to be more mature than that. You eat dinner with everyone, taking your time so that the tributes will leave before you do. You don’t want to abandon them out here. The moment that they get up to leave, you wrap up your dinner.

Finnick’s out of the room faster than you are. You and Elysia share a look, listen as the door shuts, “No matter what happens, I’ll be out here tomorrow morning, okay?”

She nods, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” you get up from the table, heading after Finnick.

Without knocking, you open the door to find that the room appears empty. The lights are off, the bed is still messy, the hammock is void. You shut the door anyway, waiting at the doorway for Finnick to come to you. You know he’s in here, you saw him come this way.

Once he moves in the corner, you see him. He’s sat in front of the window, blanket over his shoulders. The moment he sees that it’s you, he turns his back to you again. A frown appears on your face.

“Finnick…” you start, heading towards him.

The city isn’t going to be alive until the night of the interviews. Then, they’ll be celebrating that the Hunger Games is finally here. For now, he stares down at the bare streets of the Capitol. It’s lonely.

Even with you standing over him, he says nothing. You cross your arms, shaking your head, “Finn, talk to me.”

“Go away.” he mutters.

“Tell me what happened. It can’t be that bad. Did President Snow find out about our training or what?”

He’s quiet.

“Is that it?”

“No. Please, go away.”

You sigh through your nose, “No, not until you talk to me. We’re in this together, remember? We said no secrets, especially when we’re in the Capitol. Head in the game, Finnick.”

“You want to know?” Finnick asks, you feel your blood run cold when you hear how pissed he is. You have no time to respond, “I think we should break up.”

You open your mouth, and then close it. Then you open it again, “What?”

“I don’t think we’re good together. I’m breaking up with you.”

“Real funny, Finnick.” you shift on your feet.

He looks over his shoulder, blanket out of his face so that you can actually see. There is no smile, no reassurance that he’s kidding. He’s staring at you, dead in the eye, “It’s not a joke, (Y/n). We’re over.”

You stare at him for a long moment, too long. He turns back around towards the window in that time, “Get out of my room.”

You grit your teeth, hands forming fists. You say nothing when you leave, but the door slam says everything that you’re feeling. It’s loud, it rattles the doorframe and echoes throughout the apartment. 

You hate that your room is next door, and you hate that Finnick can probably hear the moment you start crying. The walls feel paper thin, you feel like you’re drowning. You try to find a place to hide but the only place where Finnick hasn’t touched is inside the closet.

You lay on your back, on the soft carpet floor with the lights off. There’s no way to properly stare at the ceiling, but you try your best anyway. No matter how badly you want to move to the bed and get a real night of sleep, you can’t bring yourself to get up and move.

It was all for nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

Well, it’s been five years since you won the Hunger Games. 

What an anniversary.

It honestly feels like you won them yesterday. You can recall all your memories as if it hasn’t been years since you stepped foot inside of the arena. Which is no doubt a bad thing. Before you’d ended your therapy a while ago, the therapist told you that you’re holding onto trauma. It’s not going to go away overnight. In fact, they wouldn’t be surprised if it doesn’t go away at all.

Which Reed didn’t like to hear at all, of course. The whole reason he’d gotten you into therapy was to work at you getting better. Unfortunately, neither of you would be reaching that goal. Not with how demanding the boarding school would get as the years would come on.

At first, you thought that everything you’d written down at the very beginning would be enough to suffice. However, the more you think about everything that you’d been through, the more that the details become clearer. Suddenly you’re remembering things that hadn’t existed in the first place.

Reed and Mox hate this habit of yours. They thought you would have buried and left it behind by now. But it’s impossible to do. You’re responsible for hundreds of kids and teenagers. The more you remember at this point, the more they’re able to learn from your mistakes and fix it themselves.

With every passing year, and bringing home a new pair of coffins, you can’t focus on yourself anymore. You think that every year is going to be different and new, that the tributes going in that year are a pair of winners for sure. But then you’re stunned right back into embarrassed silence.

District Four is being forgotten. Once again, you’re questioning why it was ever considered a career in the first place. You can’t produce victors, no matter how hard you try.

It’s frustrating, and almost not worth your time anymore.

Anchor thinks that he’s fixed the problem, though. The both of you know better than anyone that the training centers in the career districts typically train their tributes for years. There’s a reason why their volunteers are seventeen and eighteen, rarely ever sixteen. It’s because they’ve spent years training to be where they are, and they’re sure that they’ll win.

So, you switched up the rules this year. No one under the age of seventeen that goes to the boarding school is allowed to volunteer to go into the Hunger Games. If you’re chosen by chance and want to go in, that’s their deal. The only instance where it’ll be ruined is if someone else volunteers over them. If anyone over seventeen wants to go in, that’s their choice to make. Not the boarding school.

Of course, there’s no guarantee what will happen because of this. You’ve been getting at least one volunteer a year since the boarding school opened. But they’ve always been on the younger side, and have only been in the program for a year or so. They could win, but they’re not nearly as knowledgeable as the teens that have been in the program for years.

They’ve been able to watch and observe the mistakes of others. You think that if one of the seventeen or eighteen year olds that signed up when they were twelve or thirteen were to volunteer, they’d blow the competition out of the water. Show the Capitol and the career districts that you’re coming back for a round two. Bigger and better than ever.

Then again, the seventeen and eighteen year olds never express interest in volunteering because they’re nearly out. One or two years and they’re finally free of the reapings. No one would willingly throw themselves into an arena when they’re on the brink of being away from it. The chances of accidentally getting yourself killed in the arena is always an outcome, prepared or not. 

Either way, you hope this year is different and you’re able to break the four-year streak of double coffins.

You head downstairs, fingers still securing the pin in a reliable spot in your hair. When it doesn’t budge no matter how you move your head, you call it good. 

Downstairs is already awake. Reed is cooking breakfast, Mox is probably sitting at the table. You can faintly hear the sound of Alyssum talking. It’s only as you reach the bottom creaking steps, does she realize that you’re awake.

“(Y/n)!” She shouts, abandoning what she was saying before.

You find yourself crouching to look into the tiny mirror in an alcove. The pin doesn’t look out of place, in fact you can’t really see it at first glance. Only when you go to touch it, do you find where it is.

Alyssum comes around the corner, a wide smile on her face. It’s clear she hasn’t done her hair yet, waiting on you.

“Where’s your stuff?” You ask.

“Bathroom.” She says.

“Okay, let’s get it done real quick.” You push her towards the bathroom, “We’ll be in there in a minute!”

“No rush.”

You carefully comb through Alyssum’s hair, being gentle when you find snarls. Even if she were in pain, you know that she wouldn’t voice it unless it really hurt. Doesn’t mean that you purposely go ripping the brush through her hair like Reed used to do. You tie her long hair to the back of her neck, and then you loosen it up to make it look better.

“Can you tie this over the rubber band? I’m trying to match with Laleh.” 

Alyssum holds up a silk white ribbon. If she had asked you to do this last year, you would have had to tell her no. Naida had to teach you how to do a variety of hairstyles for the boarding school. Sometimes the younger girls aren’t able to tie their hair back, and sometimes they don’t want it to be a ponytail.

Needless to say, you’re starting to feel like a mother. Once the bow is tight over the band, you hold her in front of the mirror, staring into her eyes, “If the bow comes undone, go to Naida or Calandra, stay far away from Reed and Mox, okay?”

She nods once, you let her free so that she can join your brothers at the dining table while you clean up the bathroom counter. It’s a quiet morning, no one really speaks at the table, which isn’t unusual for reaping mornings. Alyssum tends to get upset because you won’t be at the house for several weeks, and you’re already stressing out about what the arena will be like this year.

You know that things would be so much easier in the Capitol if you just had a partner that worked with you. Finnick does absolutely nothing, you’re not even sure if he stays in the apartment half of the time. You never see him, rarely in the morning, you think you hear him leave at night.

He won’t help, he won’t trade with Anchor. You’ve asked him, Anchor has asked him, even Mags has asked him. If he would just give up his mentoring spot to Anchor, you’re sure that you’d come out with a few victors. When you’re doing all the work by yourself, it’s chaotic.

It’s hard to hold a schedule. You’re running between the stylists and prep teams, constantly taking advice from Elysia. When you’re not keeping an eye on the tributes, you’re watching their odds on the scoreboard go up and down depending on how much the sponsors like them. And then when they’re actually inside of the arena, you’re staying up all hours of the night to not miss a single thing. Just in case you miraculously come across a sponsor that sees potential in one of the tributes.

Not to mention the whole boarding school, which is a whole new ordeal. He comes up with the idea, promises to be there to help train no matter what. But after he broke up with you that year, he gradually stopped showing up. So now, the future tributes of District Four are not only out of a valuable side of a story, but they’re also dealing with two overworked victors who just want one break.

It’s bouncing between you and Anchor, sometimes even Mags will have to take over for a day. Which isn’t much help, considering the stroke she had last year. She tried speech therapy, but figured out that it wasn’t working as well as it should early on. Mags gave up on it, the only way she communicates anymore is through notes.

How is that going to work? You’ve got hundreds of teens and preteens relying on an old woman that can’t even speak. Her techniques are out of date, as well as Luther and Scotch. The kids have better chances with you, Finnick and Anchor. Anchor hasn’t been inside of the arena for ten years, and the kids have heard your two strategies a hundred times by now.

If Finnick were to just help. Just a little bit, you’re sure that it would make a difference. But he has such a vendetta against you or the tributes because he won’t budge. You’re fucked, he’s backed you into this impossible corner. Every year since you two won, you’ve brought home double coffins. It’s fucking embarassing. You don’t know how District Four was ever considered a career.

It’s childish, he’s so childish. He hasn’t kept his promise and he’s weaseled his way out of it every single time. And you keep letting him get away with it.

It clicks.

You keep letting him get away with it, you’re not holding him accountable. He doesn’t fall through on his promises because you don’t push them onto him. And when he tells you no, you back off because you think that there’s no point in trying. He hasn’t made an effort in the past, why would he make one when you ask.

You press your lips together, smiling. This year is already supposed to be an experiment to see what happens with the tributes. If everything goes well with this year’s tributes, you think that you’ll try something new yourself. 

“We have to stop by Naida’s place before heading over to the stage.” Reed says, standing from the table, taking his plate with him, “We can take Alyssum with us.”

“Okay.” you agree, standing up too. Mox cleans up the rest of the table, taking it into the kitchen to help Reed.

Alyssum comes over, throwing her arms around you tightly. You hug her back, being careful not to ruin her hair, “I’ll be back in a few weeks. Promise me that you’ll be good for Reed and Mox.”

“I promise.” her voice is muffled, face pressed to your stomach.

“I’ll be back before you know it.” you lean down to press a kiss to the top of her head, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

She lets go of you, a frown on her face. But it doesn’t look like she’s going to be crying this year, “I’m leaving!”

“See you later!” Reed shouts back.

You leave the house, shutting the door behind you. As you squint through the bright summer sun, you head down the stone steps and to the left, towards the opening of Victor’s Village. This year it’s Anchor’s turn to walk Mags to the stage, since you did it last year. Since they’re relatively slow, though, you’re sure that you’ll be able to catch up in no time.

You’re right, you come across Anchor and Mags more than halfway to the stage. It seems like Mags is doing just fine walking on her own, and Anchor is talking to her. Anchor hears you approaching pretty far back and glances over his shoulder to see that it’s you. 

“Good morning!” you jog to catch up, “I see you got an early start today.”

“Haha, shut up.” Anchor says, but cracks up when you do.

Anchor goes back to what he was talking about, and you quickly find out that it’s about the boarding school. It’s an in-depth explanation about your plan this year. Mags knew the basics, but now it’s all about details. You’ll be lucky if you get two tributes that showed promise during training. Otherwise, you’re left with the gamble of the reaping bowls.

Luther and Scotch have already beaten you to the stage when you get there. No Finnick in sight, which you can’t say that you’re surprised about. The five of you get on the stage, leaving the far left seat for Finnick to take when he gets here. Mayor Burrula comes on stage, getting ready to take his spot in front of the podium.

The reaping area in front of you fills. There’s familiar faces in all the age categories, in your mind, you count all the seventeen and eighteen year olds that you know go to the boarding school. It’s a fair amount, most of them are really good at what they know, especially the ones that have been with you for a couple of years now. None of which have ever expressed an interest in volunteering, though. And if they did, it was never to you or Anchor.

Finnick finally shows up when it’s five minutes out from reaping time. The moment after he sits down in his chair, he scoots it two inches away from you. It’s his own personal yearly tradition… on top of all the other ones of neglecting his mentoring duties. 

After the anthem, Mayor Burrula kicks off the reaping with the annual Dark Days speech. It’s boring, you try to look awake. As a joke, you can hear Anchor mocking soft snores. You crack a smile, shaking your head when you elbow him to get him to shut up. Burrula wraps the speech up, introduces Elysia as if she hasn’t been District Four’s Capitol escort for the past couple of years, and then sits back down.

She smiles as she does every year, standing in front of the microphone, “Good afternoon, and Happy Hunger Games. Ladies first.”

You hold your breath, all previous emotion draining out of your body. She heads over to the bowl, her gloved hand dipping into the bowl. She hesitates over the paper, trying to find one that’ll hold the golden tribute. If you have a girl volunteer this year, it’s not going to matter. She could pick a twelve year-old and they could be replaced by a seventeen or eighteen year-old.

She picks one, carefully pulls her hand out of the bowl, and resumes her spot in front of the microphone. She takes her time peeling off the black tape, not wanting to rip the paper. She reads over the name, and with the distance between you and her, you’re not able to see the name.

Still, you mentally cross your fingers. It’s a new year, a new plan. Please, please, please.

“District Four’s girl tribute is Shilin Brisby.” Elysia pronounces the name carefully, and then looks up to the section of girls.

The name isn’t familiar, and there’s no movement in the girl section. You wait, leaning forward slightly to see if the crowd will out her. But before that can happen, the magic words are being shouted, “I volunteer!”

In the eighteen section, out comes a brown-haired girl with a confident smile on her face. The peacekeepers escort her from the way back to the very front. She takes the stone steps easily, tucking her hair behind her ear so that she can see where she’s stepping.

Her name comes across your lips quickly, “Annie Cresta.”

She’s been with the boarding school since she was thirteen, which is five whole years of experience. Five whole years of training, of watching her start out small and hardly able to defend herself, to career-worthy. She’s still not very strong, but she’s resourceful, and smart. 

She stops in front of the girl’s bowl, standing up tall. She let’s Elysia ask for her name, which she repeats for everyone in District Four and in the Capitol. You can’t help the grin that comes across your face. This is the year of change.

“And now for the boys.” Elysia says, moving over to the bowl on the right. She carefully pulls out this paper too, not as hesitant as before. She when stops in front of the microphone again, the tape comes off easier. She reads over it, and then speaks, “District Four’s boy tribute is Paslee Milillio.”

There’s no gap this time. You can see a hand shoot up in the seventeen section faster than the words leave his mouth, “I volunteer as tribute!”

You breathe out a laugh, covering your mouth. This one is an easy guess, Marsh Milillio never stops talking about how his younger brother, Paslee, is going to be the next victor prodigy. Paslee’s thirteen this year, he’s been with you guys for a year. And he does show promise, so Marsh isn’t lying.

Marsh gets brought up to the stage, stops in front of his bowl and says his name clear into the microphone. Two volunteers, two very good tributes. This year, the golden beam of light is on District Four. 

Elysia wraps it up, wishes for a Happy Hunger Games again, and then backs up to allow Annie and Marsh to shake hands. They do, and you can see that Annie has this smirk on her face, something mischievous. You can only imagine how Marsh is looking at the moment, especially since they’re friends.

Once they’re done, they have to face the district again as the anthem plays for the final time. When the anthem is over, they’re brought inside of the building to say goodbye to their families. You’re supposed to take a minute or two saying your own goodbyes, or head straight to the train to make sure that you leave on time.

You stand, a bright smile on your face, “Holy shit.”

“Don’t fuck this up.” Anchor says, he’s got a grin going, “Please.”

“Holy shit!” you repeat, laughing, “Annie and Marsh? Talk about striking gold!”

It’s going to be an easy year. They understand the rules, they know how to color inside of the lines. You’re not going to have to baby them at all. Not even Marsh, even though he’s seventeen. You’ll be able to focus on more important things.

You give Anchor a hug, and then Mags too. You tell Anchor that he should probably visit the families, and then hold a celebration at the boarding school the night of the interviews. You wave goodbye to your family, who are hanging out on the outskirts of the reaping pen, and then go to meet the car that’s waiting for you.

Finnick is already inside, looking out of the window. The car takes off towards the train as soon as the door is shut. On the way to the train, you work on how you’re going to uphold the deal you made with yourself when it comes to Finnick. You’re not going to let him wreck it. He’s going to help, or he’s going to regret it.

You and Finnick head right inside. As Finnick does every year, he heads straight towards his room. He only makes it one step before you’ve got an iron lock on his wrist, keeping him from going any further.

He turns, confused, eyes trained on your expressionless face.

They say that time heals all wounds. That the longer you put the problem off, you’ll eventually forget about it, and it’ll magically evaporate and disappear like it never existed in the first place. But they’re wrong. Time has let you grow bitter and angry and tired and cold. 

The last time you talked to Finnick was years ago, when he told you for the final time that he wouldn’t be participating anymore. To leave him alone and let him do his own thing inside of the Capitol. The mentoring responsibility is now yours, consider him a ghost.

He owes you.

“Work with me this year.” The words aren’t harsh, and they even leave a little room for discussion. A part of you wants to add the word ‘please’ to the end, but you won’t be begging.

“What?” His face twists, and you can see the annoyance before it’s even appeared, “I thought we went over this already. The answer is no.”

You’re not begging. You’re also not backing down. You’re holding him to his promise this year. And if that means getting aggressive and mean, he’s about to meet a new side of you.

You face drops, hand tightening around his wrist. You lift, and pull him closer to you. Finnick might have height, but you have strength through persistence, “Let me rephrase; you’re working with me this year. It’s not a question.”

“You say that now, but you can’t make me do anything.” He twists his wrist, trying to get it free, “Let go.”

You inhale through your nose, keeping your voice quiet and level so that the microphones outside won’t pick you up, “You will help me this year, or you will wish you died in that fucking arena. I’ll make an example out of you, Finnick. You think it’s bad now, wait until I make you the punchline of the fucking joke.”

You yank him closer, he stutters to catch himself so that he doesn’t smack into you, “Your free trial is over. I hope you enjoyed it while it lasted.” He’s glaring, pissed. You let go, pushing him back in the process, “You can hide and wallow in your room now, but when we get to the Capitol, shit changes. Whether you like it or not.

“You’re under me. And you’re working for me, on my terms this year. Don’t like it? Cry me a fucking river.”

You hear the car doors outside of the train, slam shut. The tributes are here, you don’t need to be here waiting when they come inside.

“Clocks ticking, Finnick. You’ve got less than twelve hours to do what you want before your free time is mine.”

“You’re so fucking cocky. Last time I checked, I’m my own person. You can’t tell me what to do.” Finnick shakes his head, face scrunched, a slight shade of red, “Maybe this shit would have flown with Anchor, but I’m not your fucking boyfriend.”

“No, you’re not. And I’m ashamed you ever had that title in the first place. At least Anchor is fucking reliable.” You spit, and you physically see his face fall. Whatever he wanted to say next doesn’t appear on his lips, “I’ve grown up, Finnick. I’ve shouldered all of your bullshit for the past couple of years, and you’re telling me you can’t pull it together just once? It’s garbage.

“I’ve given you your space. Now it’s time to own up or get off of the fucking program. I’m not dealing with this for the next fifty years. I’d rather die before then.” You stop walking, “Once again, you’re helping me this year, or you’re going to regret it. You can think of it as an empty threat, but I’ve had years to get creative.”

He doesn’t say anything back, just leaves the train car. You let him get a headstart, not wanting to have to walk side by side with him to your rooms. By the time you start walking too, the tributes are just ending their time on the station. You leave before they see you, and take your time taking deep breaths to calm yourself down.

You don’t get angry often. It’s hard to be when you’re normally surrounded by people who take the circumstances you live in, seriously. Anchor helps and keeps you company, your family friends keep you grounded, your siblings are a reminder as to why you won in the first place. All of them are working for the better, the only one ruining the current is Finnick. Go fucking figure.

In your room, you lay down on the bed and close your eyes. Dinner will be ready in a couple of hours, and before midnight you should be inside of the Capitol. Tomorrow is the Tribute Parade, the starting point and the decider of how the rest of the trip will go. All you can do right now is hope.

You end up dozing off, only being woken when Elysia comes to the door to bring you to the table before the tributes. You get up, fixing your hair on the way to the dining room. You’re the only one at the table when you get there, and you don’t wait for everyone to show up. You’re no psychic, but you’re pretty sure that Finnick won’t be eating with you guys this evening.

Annie and Marsh take the only real seats that are offered to them. Annie to your right, Marsh to hers. The only chair that’s empty is the one across from you, where Finnick would normally sit. And of course, to your left is Elysia, always sitting at the head since she’s the escort.

Like how Elysia warned you during your train ride to the Capitol for the first time, she tells Annie and Marsh to ration out their hunger. The food will keep coming, and the portion sized will only get bigger as time goes on. You go ahead and tell them–like you tell the tributes every year–that the food is rich too, so they probably shouldn’t eat large portions anyway.

“Finnick didn’t look very happy.” Elysia says, she’s obviously talking to you.

“We spoke for a couple of minutes.” you dip your spoon into the bowl of soup, “If I were him, I’d be pretty pissed off too, but it’s just the way the cookie crumbles.”

Elysia nods, “Any big changes this year?”

You look at her, “I’m going to have an extra pair of hands, I don’t think that I’ll be running around this year.”

Elysia’s smart, she gets what you’re saying almost immediately. You watch the small smile spread over her face, but she doesn’t say anything more about the topic itself, “I suppose some attendants can run him some food.”

You finish up dinner, and then have a little bit of lava cave for dessert. Annie and Marsh are full, but not to the point where they’re going to be sick. So, you all pack it up and bring it to the next train car to watch the reaping recap. You let Annie and Marsh take the seats they want on the couch, but you stand behind it with Elysia.

You’ve grown to realize that sitting down during important events like this, makes you more nervous. It’s more or less the reason why you hate sitting during the reaping.

You watch and observe, listening to what Annie and Marsh have to say about their competitors. They don’t seem all that worried, honestly. They guess strengths and weaknesses, forming a plan of their own. A part of you wonders if they had the reaping planned out, if they made a deal to volunteer together. Like you said, they’re friends. It makes the most sense.

The obvious kids to keep an eye on, as per usual, is Districts One and Two. As the years go on, the more the tributes look vicious. Last year was a fucking nightmare when it came to watching them killing the other tributes around them. It’s no surprise they won, considering they were a fucking tornado in a playground.

“We’d like to be mentored together.” Annie says, looking over her shoulder at you.

Elysia left after the first time they played the recap, she saw all that she needed to. You vaguely remember her mentioning something about checking up on Finnick to make sure he’s eaten. It’s whatever, if he wants to start off on the wrong foot, it’s him that’s going to be regretting it, not you.

“Sounds good to me. Got a plan going on yet?” you cross your arms, eyes landing right back onto the screen in front of them.

“Marsh and I are allies, we think that’s going to work out the best.” she says, “Right?”

Marsh nods in agreement.

“This is your time to shine, not mine.” you raise your eyebrows, “We should arrive in the Capitol in the next few hours. We’ll start getting down to business tomorrow morning. Sounds good?”

“Yeah.” Marsh says.

“You should probably shower if you haven’t already, and get to bed. You’ll need all the sleep you can get, tomorrow’s going to be exhausting. You can find your rooms?” you get ready to go.

“Yes, thank you.” Annie says.

“Goodnight.” you start your way to the door, nearly leaving when Annie calls your name, “Hmm?”

She’s got a sheepish smile on her face, “Thank you for training us.”

“You’re going to be excellent inside of the arena, you two.” 

Back in your room, you lay out the clothes you’ll wear when you get to the Capitol. You take a shower, starting off standing and soaking in the warm water. Which you eventually turn hotter, and sit on the floor while it rains on you. For a while, you stare at the granite tile, but end up placing your head on your knees.

You can’t let these kids down. You’ve worked with them for four and five years, you’ve grown to know them. You watched them grow and become better at their chosen skills. You know their families, and you know that if you lose both of them this year, the whole boarding school is a joke. You’ve been working towards this idea for the past five years. You should’ve had it perfected years ago, yet here you are, still going through the trial and error process.

“Please, let one of them win this year.” you murmur, squeezing your eyes shut, “Just one of them, either of them. One of them has to come home. One beacon of hope to keep me going, please.”

You sit there for a while longer, until your fingers begin to prune. You dry your hair and gently tie it out of your face. After you’ve gotten dressed and brushed your teeth, you sit in the corner of the room, staring out of the window, watching as the sky darkens further. And then you see the lights of the city.

You gather your things out of the room, folding the outfit you wore, and then tucking it into a canvas bag. You make sure that the ring is on your finger before you leave the room behind. You’re the first to make it to the train car, arms crossed and still staring out of the window as you wait for the others.

Finnick shows up next, standing on the far side of the room, quiet as ever. Elysia brings Annie and Marsh around, just in time for the train to stop. The cheering of the Capitol citizens starts immediately, loud clapping and whistling and shouting their names.

Since there’s cameras, Annie and Marsh leave the train with Elysia first. You and Finnick follow, getting your own car. And even though the tributes left before you did, your car makes it to the Tribute Center first. Knowing that Elysia will make sure that they’re signed in properly, you and Finnick head straight to the apartment.

The elevator is quiet, tense, “Marsh is seventeen years old. He’s been in the boarding school since he was thirteen, just like Annie. They’ve decided to be allies, they know each other well. He’s good at fighting, I’ve seen him against the others, he’ll be able to measure up to the others in the gymnasium.”

You run your finger along the silver handle inside of the elevator, briefly wondering if people actually use it or not, “Annie is eighteen. She’s smart, quick on her feet. She’s reliable when it comes to recalling survival skills. She looks like she doesn’t have a lot when it comes to fighting, but that’s only the surface. Annie will never choose violence as her first choice, but as a last resort, she’s deadly.”

You look to Finnick to see that he’s already got his eyes on you, watching. You can’t tell what he’s thinking. Maybe he’s planning on telling you that he’s not going to follow your plans. He might as well save his breath, because he’s going to listen. He might think he has an option now, but you know how to work around problems.

The elevator reaches the Four floor, “Goodnight, I’ll see you at the table tomorrow.”

“Don’t count on it.” He says, following behind you loosely.

“You should be dressed and ready before noon. I trust you can find your way to the Tribute Parade by yourself.” You pause, and then look at him, “If not, I could walk you there.”

Finnick stops right next to you, angry and leaning over you like he’s trying to intimidate you. He opens his mouth to say something, but you slip out from underneath him. You hop up the last step, practically skipping as you round the corner to go to your room for the next.

You don’t scare easily.

You change into comfier clothes and then go straight to bed. With the blankets pulled to your chin, you’re out in no time. You wake up on your own time, since Elysia doesn’t really have to baby you anymore. After laying out your clothes, you take a shower and make sure to not touch your hair.

You’re the second person out in the dining room, with Elysia already at the table. She’s drinking her coffee quietly, eyes on the tv in the living room. It’s loud enough to hear from where you sit, and it’s just an overview of last year’s tribute parade and costumes. The woman talking is definitely not Claudius or Caesar, so you know it’s going to be a good morning.

“Laurel sent word early this morning, said she’d like to see you as soon as possible before the Tribute Parade.” Elysia says, setting her mug on the table, “I’ll get the kids up.”

“Thank you.” you say to her, and then repeat it for the avoxes when they begin to bring out breakfast.

Annie comes out first, looking fairly put together. She gives you a polite smile and sits by you at the table, “Good morning.”

You nod, eyes on the tv, watching as the woman skips over the first two districts. Their outfits tend to be the same thing every year. It’s a comfort for District One to dress their tributes in expensive fabric and make them look as Capitol-ish as possible. As for District One, it’s always a gladiator thing, it’s just a different variation this year.

And even with how boring it is, they still manage to come out as the favorite every single year. For a city that loves the adventure and the unpredictability of the Hunger Games, they’re pretty boring when it comes to allowing the careers to do the same thing every year. At least District Four has the brains to try something new, even if it doesn’t work all the time.

Elysia comes back out, taking a seat at the table, “Marsh will join us in a moment.”

If Laurel wants to talk to you, it’s probably about the costumes. She knows what she wants, but sometimes seeks out advice if she’s caught between two ideas. No matter what happens, Pleurisy will have to match her, and she won’t object to changes. Laurel is older than Pleurisy, which sort-of got her a certain amount of respect from Pleurisy.

It makes Laurel’s job a whole lot easier, you think. They have to match costumes at the Tribute Parade, and it’s better if you coordinate the formal outfits for the night of the interviews. Especially if the tributes are going to be working together inside of the arena. Laurel’s a sure person, if she wants it, she’s going to get it. She’s also a visionary, likes to see her works come to life. 

Right after breakfast, you should get down there quickly so she isn’t waiting for long. If you’re making a costume decision, then the prep teams are going to need to be able to shift to fit the new needs. As soon as Marsh is out here, you’ll say what you need to and then go. You can always eat later if you’re hungry.

Marsh comes out of the hallway, barely awake but he looks as put together as Annie does. You wipe your mouth with the cloth napkin, finish up your orange juice, and neatly stack up your plates for the avoxes to take. 

“Today is the Tribute Parade.” you start, catching their attention, “After breakfast, Elysia will take you down to the Remake Center. The prep teams will take care of you, no matter what happens, don’t resist or complain. Let them do their jobs, they have rules to follow.” you stand up from the table, “I’ll see you again before you get on the chariots.”

You’re about to tell them that if they have any questions, they should ask Elysia. But Finnick comes down the steps, heading straight for the dining table. It’s perfect timing on his part, you get ready to leave, “If you have any questions, Finnick will have the answers. I’ll see you later this afternoon.”

His eyes meet yours, already glaring. He doesn’t turn around and go back to his room like you halfway expected, but sits at the table and waits to be served. You think that he won’t let the tributes down, so you go ahead and leave. If Finnick doesn’t step up, Elysia will gladly do it.

Laurel and Pleurisy are standing in the hallway with the prep teams when you get there. They open up to make a space for you to stand, and you patiently wait as Laurel finishes telling Annie’s prep team what they’ll be doing with Annie. The basic stuff, some extra points if they have the time to later on. You know what the team will make room for the extra stuff either way.

Pleurisy is doing the same thing with Marsh’s team, but it’s not as heinous. They’ll find a way to draw out Marsh’s grooming so that Annie and him finish around the same time. Just so Marsh doesn’t sit around and wait for the Tribute Parade to come around.

Once they’re done, the magical opinion question is brought to the table. Laurel shows you the two options this year, and immediately you can see why she was caught between them. The first option is based off the coral reef, with bright colors and shelves that stick out in places that aren’t awkward. You know that this would be an eye-catcher, and there’s not a spot of blue to be found.

The second option is something less interesting; ropes. Brown nets that’ll be strategically placed around their bodies to make them seem dressed, but really they’ll practically be naked. The only reason this could ever appear to the Capitol citizens is because of a nearly revealed tribute. Which they’ve seen hundreds of times by now.

“Definitely the coral reef. The colors are bright and might even drown out everyone else a bit.” they back away from you, looking pleased, “It’s bold, though.”

“They’ll look amazing by the end of it. We’ve got big plans for them.” Laurel then turns to the prep teams, “Get ready to receive the tributes.” the teams scatter, leaving just you three in the hallway, “Elysia tells me you’ve got Finnick working this year.”

“Not just yet.” you admit, gently shaking your head, “He’s not very happy, I’m going to start slow but by the time the games roll around, he’ll be under my thumb. I can handle the week in the Capitol, but I start to spread myself thin when the tributes get in the arena.”

“Will he be at the parade?” Pleurisy asks.

“Should be. If not, it’s not that big of a deal.”

You spend the rest of the morning with the stylists, following them around, watching as they prepare the costumes. As it nears noon, you get word that the tributes are just about done, which means you three have to scatter. You bid them goodbye, and head back to the apartment to have lunch before meeting the tributes below the Remake Center.

The whole place feels empty, with no sign of Elysia anywhere in the common rooms, and lord knows where Finnick is. You turn the tv on again to hear what Caesar and Claudius have to say about last year’s costumes, and the predictions for this year. You sit at the table, and eat quietly, trying not to hate the Capitol anymore than you already do.

Even after you’re done eating, you sit at the table for a while. Which seems to pay off in the end, as the mystery of where Finnick’s been the entire time, is solved. Still leaves the question on where Elysia is. But if you were to take a guess now, when the Tribute Parade is less than thirty minutes off, she’s probably with the stylists so that she’s on time to the parade.

You lean your head against your hand and watch as Finnick takes his time making his way up the stairs. He’s obviously trying to avoid talking to you, because if he doesn’t look in your direction, you’re probably not going to bother him. At least, that’s what he thinks. Unfortunately, you know how to play mind games and have a fair amount of patience.

The constant silence seems to make him curious enough to look anyway. His eyes lock with yours, he stops moving up the steps. As the staring contest begins, you can see the guilt in his eyes. But as quick as it appeared, it’s suddenly gone. It doesn’t matter, because you’ve seen everything that you needed to already.

You give him a smile, “There’s fifteen minutes before the parade. Plenty of time to get cleaned up, and go, so you might as well.”

“You were waiting here for me?” he asks, face twisting.

“Don’t flatter yourself, I just ate lunch.” you roll your eyes, looking back at the tv.

He leaves, you watch as the stands fill with bright colors and animated Capitol people. To think that it feels like yesterday you were the one rolling through the street, dressed as a marble statue straight out of Atlantis. You can still remember the way your stomach twisted right as the chariots began to move.

As the years have come and gone, you’ve become more used to the cameras. Whether you like it or not, the Capitol will always be with you. They might not follow you around in District Four anymore, but they sure do keep tabs on you when the games roll around. What is (Y/n) doing this year? You’re sure they noticed your happy expressions during the reapings when Annie and Marsh volunteered. You wonder if they were suspicious that you weren’t really surprised.

You can’t say you’ll be as indifferent when the games roll around. It’s going to be harder to hold yourself together, as it is every year. And if Marsh or Annie win? It’s going to be a celebration, there’s not a single doubt about it. And depending on what happens in the arena exactly, especially with the other careers, you’ll be rubbing it in.

Finnick comes out when it hits ten minutes. He doesn’t look all that different, just less disheveled than he had started as. You and him take the elevator down below the Remake Center, and you’re able to see that there’s a handful of tributes here already, waiting by their chariots.

Annie and Marsh are dressed brilliantly. As always, Laurel knows what she’s doing, and she’s managed to make it look like they could easily blend into the reefs themselves, if they wanted to. Annie’s hair is done up in braids, with bright colors weaved in and out. As a headpiece, she’s got an orange reef hair comb tucked in neatly. 

The colors on their bodies are strategically placed to make them blend into each other. Annie’s got a dress that bells out at the bottom, with unique, hand-painted designs that must have taken hours. Even Marsh has brightly colored makeup around his eyes, smeared with colored glitter mixed in.

“Huh.” Finnick lets out, “You picked this?”

“This is not what was sketched out.” you look at him, raising your eyebrows, “But it’s pretty cool, huh?” 

You elbow him slightly, and then head over to Annie and Marsh, “You guys look amazing!” 

Annie turns, giving you a red-faced smile. Marsh on the other hand, rolls his eyes and picks at the coral band on his arm. Since they can’t do special effects on the tributes, as the chemicals might irritate his skin, the stylists have to get creative with how they get props to stick onto the tributes. It typically turns out to be tight bands like the ones Marsh is wearing. It doesn’t cut off circulation, but it isn’t exactly comfortable either.

With this, Pleurisy slaps Marsh’s hand to get him to stop fiddling with the band. If he messes it up now, it’ll have to come off completely. There’s absolutely no time to go back and fix anything that he might fuck up. Marsh seems to catch the clue though, because he laces his fingers together and tries not to touch anything else.

The opening music starts, notifying you that it’s time to get the tributes onto their chariots. Laurel and Pleurisy shift anything that needs to be moved, and then they’re making Marsh and Annie get onto the chariot. You watch as they shift around, finding the way they’ll be standing for the parade.

“Any tips?” Annie asks hopefully.

“Follow your gut.” you say, “If you feel like smiling or waving, do it. This is your time to set what you’ll be like for the rest of the Capitol trip. As soon as you’re in the arena, it can go away.”

They don’t ask any questions, and even if they had any, their time is up. The doors behind them have finished opening, District One’s chariot is starting to move. You and the others back off, wishing the tributes good luck. You’re all subjected to watching the chariots on the tv.

You cross your arms, yawning slightly. You’re ready for the day to be over, at least the next three days or so is going to be slow. All you really have to do is get up and make yourself presentable until they’re shipped to the Training Center. The only real working day is the one the day before the interviews. And that’s because you’re going to be figuring out how you can help them be ready for the interview.

Annie and Marsh seem to be in their element for the most part. Annie is obviously shy, Marsh doesn’t mind it at all. She waves and smiles and does just as much as Marsh does. They stop in the City Circle, the anthem plays, President Snow gives his speech, the chariots go around the circle one last time, and then come back.

“Not bad.” you say to yourself, “Not bad at all.”

You leave Finnick standing there, giving the tributes a wide grin. The prep teams are already singing praises, so there’s not much to say. Muchless room to say it. Elysia thinks that they’ve had an influence on the Capitol already, which is a relief. As long as they’re drawing in some attention, you’re good.

Back inside of the Four floor, your tributes head off to take their showers. Finnick meanders around the rooms, you settle onto the couch in the living room, watching the chariot rides again. As always, Claudius and Caesar have been captivated by District One and Two’s amazing stylists. They barely make a comment about District Four.

You end up with your head in your hands. You know that just because the moderators didn’t say anything, doesn’t mean that other people didn’t take a closer look. But their biased opinion tends to have an effect on people after a while. Continue to make dim comments about districts, and you’ll end up like District Twelve.

No one wants to be District Twelve.

Dinner with everyone–with the exception of the prep teams–is enough to keep you awake. You go ahead and indulge yourself in red wine, trying to seem like you’re enjoying yourself. As soon as the alcohol sets in, making your head spin a little, you go ahead and give it up. You’re not really a drinker, anyway.

As soon as the cake is served, you’re sure that dinner is pretty much over. You go and watch the replay of the parade again, Elysia goes ahead and tells you guys what the people she’d talk to said. It’s all very good things, and you begin to suspect that she’s just being nice for the tributes.

“Don’t give them false hope.” you say, cutting her off completely, “Claudius and Caesar did nothing for us. Annie and Marsh have to do good on their training scores, and even better during the interviews if they want to make a lasting impression.” you look at the tributes, “The pressure of performing well has only just begun.

“You guys should get to bed, we’ll see you at breakfast for instructions. Try to get a good night of sleep.”

Annie thanks Laurel on her way out, Marsh barely does the same. You absently watch the tv while you wait for them to be gone completely. Finnick’s already gathering his things, “I’ve got to go.”

“Be there at breakfast, I’ll fill you in the best I can.” you tell him.

“Sure.”

He leaves too, and you’re left there with Elysia, Laurel and Pleurisy.

“You know how to clear a room.” Laurel says, you crack a smile.

“Well you wanted to talk.” you look at them, “So let’s get to talking.”


	3. Chapter 3

One second, you’re running through a dark forest. With your heart pounding in your ears, hot breath tingling your lips, legs aching and burning the more you push on. You weave through the trees, fingertips scraping against the bark. You’ll move one way, but jerk the other when you hear a voice call your name. Loud, teasing, and hauntingly familiar. You reach the top of the cliff, with nowhere else to run. One blurry glance behind you, and you know that you can’t stay. 

Your only option is to jump.

Before you have the chance to reconsider, the wind is already whistling in your ears, clothes painfully whipping at your skin. You can see the water coming closer and closer, the jarring rocks becoming more clear. From the height you jumped at, the water is concrete, and the rocks are spears. You’re about to hit the water and feel every single bone break in your body–

The next second, you’re jolting awake, now in the Capitol. For a moment, you can’t catch your breath, feeling the painful ache in your lungs from sucking in air while you ran. With shaky fingers, you wrap your hands around your throat, closing your eyes. You’re safe, they can’t get you here.

The only place they reign in is your nightmares, and even then sometimes they lose. They just got lucky this time, they caught you off guard. Next time, they’re not likely to be as lucky.

When you feel like you’ve got a hold of reality again, you open your eyes and stare into the sun yellow room. It takes a second for you to realize that it’s not the morning dull color, it’s the afternoon one. The sun that makes the room warmer and feel like home. You sit straight up in bed, immediately looking to the clock.

It’s past noon. Your tributes went to the Training Center by themselves, with hardly any direction. You doubt that Elysia gave them the advice that you would, you’re not even sure if she’s authorized to say stuff like that. Which means that they might have just gone and screwed up their big debut to the gamemakers, something that will surely have an effect on their score later on.

You bury your face in your hands, letting out a soft groan. You wipe the sleep from your eyes, and then slip out of bed to take a quick shower to wake you up. As soon as you’re done, you let the Capitol machines have their way with your hair, making it as soft as silk, and free of tangles. All that’s left to do is to style, but you leave it alone today.

You spin the ring around on your finger, already feeling nerves growing in your stomach as if Elysia will yell at you for slacking on your duties. Out of all your years of mentoring alone, you’ve never slept in. You’ve never had a day where you just forgot to get up on time to tell the tributes what to do.

You knew you should’ve taken it easy on the alcohol last night. It wasn’t even that you, Elysia and the stylists stayed up late, because you didn’t. You talked for maybe half an hour to forty-five minutes after Finnick left. You went straight to bed after that because you were afraid something like this would happen. At least you were right, and you know that you won’t be doing this ever again.

As much as you enjoy being around your Capitol friends, and the nights where you can celebrate like that, they’re not good for you. They throw you off, and since this year has already been different from the start, you’re already on your way down a different path. There’s no reason to start slacking now.

Elysia isn’t in the dining room, and she isn’t in the living room either. The apartment is as empty as it was yesterday when you came around for lunch. You should’ve expected this, with your luck, Elysia is doing what you’re supposed to be doing. And she’s already swamped with trying to keep things on track.

You pause in the doorway of the hallway, staring into the apartment, feeling tired and miserable. You don’t know where to go, or how to start. To the stylists? Find Elysia? Wait for the tributes to come back and tell you how their first day went? Is there even time for a quick bite before you go? Probably not.

You take a single step towards the door, figuring that you’ll start off with the easiest place to go; the stylists, and work your way from there. They might have some idea on where your trusty Capitol escort is. Then, the front door opens, and you’re met with Finnick’s red face, running a hand through his hair.

The door slips shut behind him, he’s definitely distracted. It’s like he doesn’t even see you, with how he moves to the living room and turns on the tv. You open your mouth, going to question what he’s doing, but he finds the channel. There’s no time to ask, you gravitate towards the television set as if it’s got you under mind control.

Once in a blue moon, the gamemakers will hint at what the arena will be. It’s rare, even more rare than allowing two tributes to win the Hunger Games together. Finnick hears the tapping of your shoes against the steps, and looks over his shoulder briefly. Your mouth falls open slightly, eyes glued to the screen.

The tributes are never allowed to see the broadcast, and the gamemakers show it once. Which is exactly why Finnick’s out of breath, he must have ran all the way here to make it in time. It’s a good thing that you got up thirty minutes ago, or you would’ve had to take Finnick’s word for what they’re showing. 

It’s a beautiful landscape, like it is every year. One that manages to look better than the last. The Capitol has done it all when it comes to arenas; from deserts, to islands, to frozen tundras, to cities that are nothing but crumbs after the rebellion. They’re all intricately planned, and they were ready years before they were actually used.

The Capitol doesn’t show much, only one snapshot of the arena. You have to figure out the mystery of what this year’s nightmare personality may be. What will be the final twist that they have to offer? During your games, there wasn’t one. You and Finnick made it entertaining all by yourself. But other games need that little push to make it memorable.

The picture on screen is of a deep green hill with thin trees and colorful flowers. They won’t do much for hiding, not even climbing. They’ll hold body weight, but it’s hard to climb trees that you can almost wrap your body around twice. There’s a stream, maybe a bit bigger than a stream. Blue water, clear as day. Makes you suspicious that it’s not as clean as it appears to be. It’s hard to trust good-looking water after you’ve been betrayed once before.

There’s a small building, a shack like the one you had in your games. Only, this one is much more beaten down. It’s roof is caving in, definitely looks like wood rot, it won’t provide much protection. Especially since the door is half gone and there’s no windows. A strong enough gust of wind could blow the place down.

But that’s not the main attraction, something as simple as a shack could be easily written off with the monster behind it. In fact, you don’t think you’ve seen anything more terrifying in the Hunger Games before. At the start of this new decade, the gamemakers are trying something new this year. Luminous fear.

It’s a large dam, a great wall of grey concrete. The only thing that stands between the rest of the arena, and an unfathomable amount of water. You’re not sure that knowing how to swim could save anyone in this situation. Just staring at it, you think that there’s a ton of water being hidden behind the dam. 

You’ve never seen a dam in person before. You know that District Five has one, though. It’s what gives the districts and the Capitol most of their power. Get rid of that, and there’s a nation-wide blackout. From what you’ve gathered when you’ve seen it on tv, it’s fucking huge. A hundred times bigger than what’s going to be in the 70th Hunger Games arena. 

This dam compared to the one in District Five, is childsplay. But that’s where you stop underestimating it, because it’s still dangerous. The gamemakers wouldn’t choose to shower it unless they had ill intentions. You cross your arms slightly, using one of your hands to play with your lower lip while you stare.

Unfortunately, you can’t tell the tributes about what you’ve seen. Neither can anyone else, it’s cheating and the tributes will be targeted inside of the arena because of it. If they tell anyone that they know about it beforehand, it’s an immediate target. If the tribute never goes towards where the snapshot was given, then they’re a target too.

Normally, no one breaks the rules because of this. It’s too risky to have the Capitol find out. But you’re sure that Districts One and Two will find a way around this rule, because they always do. It’s their tributes funeral, the faster they get killed, the better chances your tributes have.

The program zooms in on the dam a little, you’re sure that they’re getting ready to take it away. So, you try and memorize the last that you can, thinking that you’ll need to locate the placement in the arena when you have the chance. But you’re stopped when you see something dark on the screen. You move forward, squinting, wiping the screen under the assumption that it’s a hair or a smear of alcohol from Pleurisy when she continued to drink last night.

But it doesn’t come off, and the more you stare, the more your blood begins to run cold. It’s not on your side of the screen, it’s on theirs. It’s thin, barely noticeable if you’re not looking for it. And you just found it by accident. They zoomed in on purpose.

No human structure is unbreakable. Not even the better creations.

This wasn’t a mistake, they wanted a mentor to notice that the dam is cracking.

“What is that?” Finnick asks.

“A crack.” Your hand falls, you back up to look at the whole scene one last time before it disappears, “There’s more.”

It’s gone right after. There’s a warning issued right after not to warn the tributes or find a way to prepare them in advance. Doing so will result in immediate trouble for the mentor. But your mind is already finding ways to make up for it.

You can’t brainstorm out loud here, maybe somewhere in the street, away from the Tribute Center. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek, Finnick turns off the tv since the main show is over, and they’re not talking about it at all. 

A low hum sounds from you. A plot is already beginning in your head for a subtle way to push your tributes in the right direction. You’d say that you’ve never cheated in the Hunger Games before, but then again, your tributes have trained since they were children.

You’re already cheaters, what’s a little more?

“I talked to the tributes this morning.”

“About what?” You ask, pressing your lips together for a moment. 

You then turn your body away, heading up the steps and to the dining room table. You wish you could write your thoughts onto a pad of paper. But paper is traceable, they’ll be able to find out that it came from you guys.

“About training.” Finnick says, following you, “You weren’t up this morning.”

“I had too much to drink last night.” You thank the avox that delivers your late lunch. You pause for a moment, thinking over what Finnick has just said, and then you turn to him, “You were at the table this morning?”

“You said you would fill me in.” Finnick says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “I figured the best time for you to do that would be this morning before you got busy. But you didn’t show up so…” he trails off for a moment, picking up a sugar-covered grape, turning it over in his fingers, “I told the tributes that they should show off their skills to the careers.

“They told me that they don’t want to ally themselves with the careers, and I told them that was fine. They don’t have to succumb to the pressure of the tradition of teaming up. All that matters is that they show the careers that they’re just as good and they’ll be missing out on two good tributes.” Finnick looks at you.

“And they’re keeping at least one hidden?”

“Yes.” Finnick nods, and then eats the grape, “I warned them that this might start an early rivalry that they probably won’t be able to remedy. Annie and Marsh don’t care, as long as the careers won’t try and be friends, they’ll figure it out. I don’t think they want an alliance with anyone.”

“Figured that much out already.” You say, “Thank you for doing that for me.”

Finnick doesn’t say anything, his eyes casting downwards. You two eat in silence, and just when it seems like he’s about to leave, Elysia comes back.

“Did you see?” She asks, she’s pulling off some black gloves that she’s wearing. Actually, she seems to be dressed in all black.

“Who died?” You ask in return, earning a snort from Finnick.

Elysia rolls her eyes, “The broadcast—“

“Yeah, we saw it.”

You and Finnick get up from the table, making a triangle with Elysia. You rub your face slightly, “They showed the dam for a reason, we’ve already figured it out. This year is a handful already.”

Elysia stares between you and Finnick for a moment, eyes shifting from side to side like she’s deciding something. Like if you and Finnick are finally back to being a team, or are coincidentally together at the moment. Although, the two of you were sitting at the table together, so you can see why.

You don’t mind teamwork. If Finnick wants to go all in, he can be your guest. You’re not the problem here, maybe pushing him isn’t a perfect idea, but neither is letting him run free. The second that Finnick comes to the conclusion that he’s ready for it again, you’ll be unstoppable. All he needs to do is say yes.

“The tributes might be feeling a little overwhelmed after today,” she says, her eyes darken a bit. Secret meanings, they’re hidden everywhere. “The balcony would be a good place for a pep talk after dinner.”

Elysia’s a rule breaker too, it seems. Suggesting that you take your tributes out there and warn them in some way. This is why you like her, she’s not naive and stupid like the other escorts. You got lucky, placed with a woman who might not be on your side all the time, but there are times she waivers and caves.

“I think they might like the lights of the city.” you agree, nodding your head, “Smart thinking.”

Finnick’s caught on too, he nods, and then stretches his arms, “I’m going to take a quick nap. The two of you will be here to collect the tributes, so I’m off duty.” 

He turns, heading up the steps. Elysia bids him a short goodbye, and then the two of you wait for him to be gone completely before she starts to gossip, “You should’ve seen him this morning. Normally, he’s not so serious but he stepped up when he realized that you weren’t coming out.” she pauses, and then her eyebrows push in, “Was that on purpose?”

“No, it wasn’t.” you shift on your feet, checking the clock on the wall. There’s about half an hour before the tributes come back, “I’m not surprised. Once a victor, always a victor. It’s hard not to mentor when you know that the tributes need your help. It’s hard not to be overbearing and in control, either. Took me a while to figure that out.”

“Well, I wouldn’t do it again.”

“Don’t plan on it.” you tell her, “I only slacked because I drank. I’m just lucky Finnick didn’t stay out too late. How’s the Capitol liking Four?”

“They’re excited about the volunteers, I’ve been talking them up all day. I’m going to go back out for a little while and check up on Laurel and Pleurisy. Have anything you want me to pass along?”

“No, but we should probably have the token talk tonight as dinner, or tomorrow at breakfast.” 

She snaps her fingers, “I knew I forgot something this morning. You threw me off.”

“The last time, I promise.”

“Good.” She says, heading down the steps, “Try not to obsess over the broadcast, (Y/n). Annie and Marsh are fit, it’ll take a miracle to bring them down.”

“Don’t jinx us.” you joke.

She leaves through the elevator, you wander around the apartment for a minute, deciding if it’s worth it to stay out here. But in the end, you sit on the couch and pull out a book to read. Capitol fashion, the past trends and how they affect today. The last time you checked, they’re still drooling over the idea of gems and expensive fabrics.

Anything to make them look expensive and upper class. But you know their secrets, after years of mentoring and talking to sponsors, you’ve begun to notice when they’re faking. People who aren’t rich, invest in the Hunger Games in hopes that they’ll win it all back. The betting room is an intoxicating place if you’re in debt and need a place to be flashy.

The truth is, the Capitol isn’t all silver and gold. They’ve got their own lower class, but the difference between their lower class and the districts is that the districts will help each other. If your neighbors needed a babysitter or dinner for the night, your doors were open. You’re all a tight-knit community normally, but with the Hunger Games, it makes you even closer.

Annie and Marsh come through the elevator, foreheads glistening, sweat stains under their arms and down their backs. Needless to say, you think that they had a good workout. They pause in the doorway, Marsh leans over to catch his breath, Annie seems pretty happy.

“Hey,” you fold the book halfway, “Sorry for not being up this morning. How did your first day go?”

“Good!” Annie beams, “We’re good at a lot of things in there, so there’s not much to learn. I think that we’ll spend the last day going through stations that we don’t know just in case.”

“That’s good. Anyone offer an alliance?”

“Not really looking for one.” Marsh stands, he’s in worse shape than Annie is. His face is redder, like he ran a couple of miles in the heat, “But no offers, we’ll let you know if there are any.”

You nod, “Go shower and get ready for dinner, Elysia will come and get you when it’s time.” you watch as they start to go, “Oh! Also, be quiet in the hall.”

“We will.” Annie says.

You read in the living room for a little while longer, but end up packing it up and heading to your room to relax and make a phone call back home. Reed’s the one that picks up, letting you know that everything is going just fine. He passes the phone around after that, you get an array of greetings and questions about what’s happening and what you think is going on.

Unfortunately, you can’t tell them that you saw the arena, either. It’s a surprise for them too. You know that Reed won’t tell anyone, he’s got the whole Capitol-Hunger Games thing on lock. But sometimes Mox forgets what’s supposed to be secrets, and what isn’t. One slip to Caspian, and the whole secret will be out. And it’ll be traced right back to you, because you’re the one that keeps the Dorazio families company.

You wrap it up with Alyssum, listening to her talk about whatever comes to mind. You only get off the phone when you see that dinner is drawing closer. By the time you’re able to get off the phone, you barely make it to the table before the tributes. You and Finnick ask lots of questions at dinner, curious about how they’re feeling and sizing up the competition.

As always, every single year, the only threat they can come up with is the careers. You constantly remind them that they’re careers too, and today proved that, “If you showed off like Finnick told you to, you just threatened them and everyone else in that gym. And it’s going to be even worse now that you’re not allies with them. The other tributes are going to have two groups to worry about. You two, and the careers.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if the careers pick you guys out first in the arena.” Finnick says, picking at his food, “You’re going to be the first threat, especially if you score high during training.”

You snap your fingers, catching Annie and Marshs’ attention, since their eyes have drifted, “Don’t get nervous. It just means that your odds are increasing, and more people are going to like you. It’s an opportunity, remember that.”

“What if they offer an alliance?” Annie asks, shaking her head slightly, “They haven’t yet, but what if they ask?”

“You tell them no.” Finnick says, “Saying it straight to their faces is going to get the message across. They’re more likely to back off then, but it’ll be temporary.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s obvious.”

Marsh clears his throat, “I’m worried that they’ll follow us after the bloodbath.”

“Don’t stay in the cornucopia.” you say, “In fact, I wouldn’t go that deep in. You’ll get sponsors, they’ll fill the gaps that you’re missing. You two just have to focus on running. The careers will be caught up in the bloodbath, as they always are. They’ll be too busy to follow you guys.”

“I hope so.” Marsh says.

You sigh, sitting back in the chair, “You guys need to remember that you’re ready for this. Four and five years of fighting and memorizing. You are just as dangerous as they are at this point. You’re scared now, think that you might be inferior, but the truth is that in a fight, you’re going to hold up. You’ll see.”

Think down, you’ll perform down. You want to tell them that the longer they underestimate themselves, the more they won’t realize their true potential. They’ll never measure up the way that they’re supposed to. You open your mouth, to say exactly what you’re thinking, because you’re the mentor and you should know better than them.

Finnick’s eyes shift to you, waiting for what you’re going to say. But you hesitate, because you know that mindset doesn’t work for everyone. You got chosen for the Hunger Games, you didn’t volunteer like they did. Unlike them, you didn’t have a choice but to go. The only thing that kept you going the entire time before and inside of the arena was family, and thinking that you were more than you actually were.

You’re not sure that’s going to work with them. They know who they are, they know the things they’ve learned and the worth they hold. They’re just nervous, you don’t need to tell them that they’ll do fine inside of the arena. Everyone has their moments of doubt, right? But you don’t remember having it this bad, and considering you age, you should’ve been depressed.

Once again, it was family that was keeping you alive. The constant visualization of you being the last one standing while your name was announced over the arena. You also knew that you were going to do well that year. It was a gut feeling. Just like how it’s a gut feeling that Annie or Marsh is gonna live this year.

You close your mouth, smiling slightly at Finnick. His lips part momentarily, and then he mimics your own smile. You think he’s realized this too. The constant reassurance of your tributes is babying them. They’re just nervous, they know that they’re going to do well. You could let up on the pressure, but they need it. They’re going to be under pressure inside of the arena, too. 

“Are you guys done? There’s something I want to talk to you guys about.” you wipe your mouth with the napkin, and then stand up from the table.

“I–yeah.” Annie carefully stacks her plates and bowls into a neat pile for the avox to collect. Marsh is much sloppier, but tries to be as considerate as she is. You think that she has experience in this type of thing.

You raise your eyebrows at Finnick, who’s still seated at the table. He shakes his head, “I’m busy tonight.”

“Stay safe, then.” you tell him, and then start up the steps, “Come on, you two.”

They don’t say a word behind you, not even a question on where you’re taking them. You bring them deeper into the apartment, around to the balcony that’s off to the side. The top floor–District Twelve’s floor–has a better balcony, one that blends in better. But you’ve explored this place plenty of times, you know it’s secrets now.

You hum, unlock the door and then open it. A gust of wind blows through the doors, warm and welcoming. It reminds you of the salty air from District Four, also hot during the summer after baking in the sun all day. Annie goes through the door first, thanking you quietly for holding it open. You press your hand to Marsh’s back, pushing him out a little quicker.

Looking behind you, there’s no one. The hallway is dark because you didn’t turn on the light. And it’s empty, because the floor’s don’t hold peacekeepers. They rarely even have Capitol attendants waiting around every corner. Which means that you guys should be just fine outside. Since it’s windy, it’ll be harder to hear you if there are cameras and microphones.

You shut the door tightly behind you, and join the tributes at the railing. The city below is bright and alive, as it always is at night. The Capitol is full of a bunch of insomniacs. They never are up during the morning, but they’re wide awake at night. Sometimes, you think that you can relate to them in this sense, but for a different reason. For a while, you were afraid of the dark too.

Marsh leans over the railing, like he’s testing its sturdiness. Your eyes scan over the wall, until you find the windchime. Pulling it down from the roof, you toss it right over the edge without a single warning to the tributes. On the way down, it continues to clink and whistle.

“What was that for?” Marsh asks, eyebrows knit together, eyes on you.

“Just in case you get any bright ideas. Watch.” you say, and they do. It takes a couple of seconds, but the windchimes hit the forcefield and come bouncing right back. When you catch them in your hand, they’re as black as charcoal and no longer sounding as delicate as they did before. 

You crush the wood in your fist and watch the wood turn to crumbs. Then, you drop it off to the side. Marsh has now backed off of the railing, crossing his arms. Annie takes one step back, but still looks over the edge curiously.

“We’re close in age.” you start, looking out to the city too, “I’m only two-three years older than you two. Finnick is even less than that, so I can understand why it’s hard to believe us when we tell you that you’ll do just fine inside of the games. We haven’t been inside of the games for a while, and our track record is far from perfect when it comes to mentoring.”

You look at them now, you’ve got their attention, “Believe me when I say that this year is different. You two are special, more capable than the tributes in the past were. Your lives have revolved around this idea since you signed up for the boarding school. You have fought hard to get to this point. Don’t give up on yourselves now. This is the most important part.

“It’s hard to know what to prepare yourselves with when it comes to training.” you pause for a second, trying to figure out how to word this. You know exactly what they should use, even if you never used it personally, “Tomorrow, I want you to focus on agility.”

You look between their faces, trying to read their expressions. Annie is smart, you know that she’ll catch on. Marsh is a different story, he’s always driven by explanations. You can’t give him one this time, which might ruin your subtle plan to push them in the right way. In the gymnasium, they have blocks for agility training. You hop from block to block, that gradually gets higher. It’s timed, but that’s not the important part.

They’ll learn how to assess the ground that they’re going for. Maybe help them when it comes to picking and choosing where to place their feet, strengthening their confidence in non-dominant feet. The better they’re at with going up and down uneven ground, the better.

“Okay.” Annie says, “I was looking at that today already, so I think that it would be a good idea.” Her eyes then land on Marsh, who stares right at her. He trusts her, that’s a good thing when it comes to allies. It might be his downfall if she ever plans on betraying him, though.

“Sure.” Marsh finally agrees, and then looks at you, “You’re the expert.”

“Don’t get me wrong, this is your games. You’re the ones going into the arena, so you should be planning out what you want. But trust me on this one, okay?” the wind has died down, the previous cover is now gone, “Go to bed, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Thank you, (Y/n).” Annie says, her eyes show that she understands, and you give her a gentle nod.

They go back inside, but you stay outside for a little while longer, leaning against the railing as you stare into the city of the Capitol. A place that’s so pretty on the outside, but absolutely ugly on the inside. The definition of how looks can be deceiving.

Hopefully that idea can apply to your tributes next.

–

“Good morning!” You yell, clapping your hands together as you come out from the hallway.

No one is looking awake this morning, and you can’t really blame them. Annie and Marsh have been working hard at training for the past two days. Lucky for them, today is the last. But it also means the private training scores happen this afternoon. 

Finnick leans his head against his hand, watching as you come to the table. He looks fairly amused by your enthusiasm, and how your tributes are lacking.

“In the Training Center today, you’ll have the first half of the day for training, but after lunch is time for scoring.” You sit at your spot, “Don’t stress out about it too much. If you kept a skill that you’re good at hidden, then you’ll do just fine. After training, you’ll come back here. And then we’ll wait to see what happens.”

The avox delivers a plate of food, you don’t hesitate with starting to eat. Honestly, the more you look at your tributes, the more they start to look green. They’re picking at their food, not really looking at you or Finnick. It’s definitely the nerves kicking up again. Yesterday they did so good with not even feeling it.

You share a brief look with Finnick, he’s playing with the rope bracelet around his wrist. It looks exactly like the one he had when you guys were inside of the arena, but you know that it’s new. If you remember correctly, the last bracelet broke just after the Victory Tour. Guess it fulfilled it’s duty, and Finnick got a new one because of it.

“Tomorrow we’ll have a different sort of day, it’ll be more relaxing,” you continue, picking up the mug of light brown coffee, “And then it’s interviews.”

“Just like that, huh?” Marsh mutters, pushing around the food on his plate.

“You guys should eat, you’ll need the energy.” Finnick says, “Even if it’s not much.”

Annie listens, but Marsh’s heart still isn’t into it. You try to keep conversation light with them, but they’re duds, so you switch to Elysia to talk about how tomorrow will happen. Elysia knows more about proper etiquette when it comes to being on stage, so she’ll be the one taking care of how Annie walks in heels and how they respond to questions.

Which just leaves you and Finnick to decide their personalities on stage.

You wish Annie and Marsh good luck, “The first thing you do in that private room is breathe, got it? Calm yourselves down.” you then give them a smile and let them go. 

Elysia isn’t too far behind, going to do her daily duties of rounding up people that could potentially sponsor your tributes in the arena. It leaves you and Finnick at the table, left to figure things out on your own.

“I think we can put Annie down as kind.” You say, “Or have her try to talk smart to get people to look at her more.” you rub your forehead with an open palm, “But if she scores low, then talking smart won’t do anything.”

“At least one of them have to act dangerous.” Finnick says, you nod slightly, “Or the both of them. Even if they score low, they can still be mean on stage.”

“It’ll just take the effect of it away.” pressing your lips together, you stare off at the wall for a while, “We’re just going to have to wait and see, I guess.” 

When you place your hand down on the table a little too hard, you can hear your ring clink against the table. Standing, you stretch your arms and move some hair out of your face.

“Where are you off to?”

“Tribute tattoos.” you say, and then pause, “Not for actually tributes, for my parents. I should be back before they’re done, but to be fair, when we came back from ours, Anchor and Mags were nowhere to be seen. It’ll be good for them, not knowing what to do next.” you start down the steps, “Teaches them some independence.”

You get all the way to the front door, looking behind you to Finnick. He’s absently staring at you, like he’s waiting for something. A while ago, when you and Finnick were still dating, you used to describe him as a golden retriever, because he’s loyal and would love to go with you, if you asked.

You wonder what happened to the loyal part. You press down on the door handle, “You’re invited if you want to go. I think they take walk-ins.”

“One of us should be here.” He says.

“Didn’t you hear what I just said?” you let out a small laugh, “Or are you just scared of needles, Odair?” You give him a cheeky grin, opening the door and leaving, “I’ll see you later.”

You get all the way to the elevator, inside with the button pressed when Finnick rounds the corner, hand covering the doors before they can close. It’s hard not to give him another big smile, especially with the annoyed look on his face. Secretly, you know that he liked the invite, and he’s going to enjoy your company.

“What’s with the tattoo obsession?” he asks.

You scoff, “Obsession? This’ll be my second one, thank you.”

“And the first one being…?” he asks, eyebrows raised.

You roll your eyes. You’re pretty sure he was around for this one, but you lift the hair off of the back of your neck anyway, turning to let him see. It should be a D3, obviously for District Three. You got it for Blaire, you knew him for so little time, but you’re sure he was your best friend inside of the arena. 

“Oh, I remember that.” Finnick says, “Looks like it needs a touch-up.” he mutters, and then you feel cold fingers against the back of your neck. He runs his finger over it, but it’s gone quickly, “Just for Blaire, right?”

“Didn’t really know Verda.” you let your hair down.

“Yeah, that’s true.” He says, the two of you walk side by side out of the elevator and to the front doors, which is currently fairly crowded by a group. 

They’re not dressed in bright colors or solid white, so they can’t be Capitol people or peacekeepers. And if they are stylists, they’re definitely dialed back a lot like Laurel is. Out of all the stylists that you’ve seen come and go, she’s definitely more tame than the rest. Even your prep team is pretty normal-looking.

The closer you get, the more it dawns on you. It’s a pack of mentors, four of them all gathered together in the middle of the lobby. You take the initiative, going in front of Finnick to lead him through. From afar, it was hard to see who exactly, but now you know that it’s District One and Two’s mentors; Cashmere, Gloss, Enobaria and Wade. 

You’ve worked with them in the past, they’re not bad people to be around. But they have the career mindset going on all the time, it’s hard to be around them. They all won their games years ago–with the exception of Wade, who won a year or two ago–and they’re still living life like that doesn’t matter.

You guess the career complex really themselves worked into their brains. Whereas your tributes have moments of anxiety and hesitation, their tributes never do. But a downside of that is the impulsive and brashness when they’re inside of the arena. It never hurts to think things through, but they don’t do that. It’s why you knew that Trink and Lennox would follow your treasure trail, because they wouldn’t think ahead about how they’re wandering right into your trap.

To be fair, though, they did think that you were severely injured. You also were several years younger than them, and had never trained the way they did for their entire lives. Then again, you scored high, you took down Horace. They should never have kept you around for as long as they did. It’s the same reason why you took down Allio; because he was a threat. And you were too.

“Hey, guys.” you call, making them look over.

You’re sure that they’re getting ready for a celebration, considering their tributes never score badly. However, you think this is the last day where all the tributes will get to intermingle the way they have been for the past couple of days. Tomorrow they’re inside, the day after they get brief moments on stage and after interviews to swap compliments. Then they’re straight to the arena.

“(Y/n)!” Cashmere says, she opens her arm, you go ahead and give her a hug, “We haven’t seen you since the Tribute Parade. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you’re hiding from us.”

“Oh no, I’m definitely hiding.” you laugh, they do too.

“Our tributes want to have an alliance with yours.” Enobaria says, “They haven’t had the chance to ask, so they wanted us to give it a try.”

You open your mouth to tell them that it’s not going to happen this year, but Finnick’s speaking over you, “Our tributes aren’t really looking for an alliance this year, they want to go it alone.”

Every single one of them share the same confused expression. You almost laugh, but clear your throat instead, “Annie and Marsh are working as a pair this year. We didn’t want to push them on an alliance if they didn’t want one.”

“Oh, that’s fine.” Cashmere says, “I hope they know what they’re doing in the arena.”

“They’re definitely a couple of fighters, that’s for sure.” you shift on your feet, and steal a glance at Finnick to make sure that he’s not uncomfortable. You could talk to these four all day, it’s hard not to make friends with the other mentors when you’re by yourself.

At some point, their sponsors became your sponsors by default. You worked together, all hands in to make sure that one of your tributes would come out. It worked for a while, Cashmere and Gloss got a male victor almost immediately, and so did Enobaria and Kurt. The only reason why the new male victor from One isn’t a mentor is because Cashmere and Gloss are siblings; they like to work together.

“Two volunteers in the same year is new.” Gloss says slowly, you and him stare at each other, “What are you guys up to?”

“Same thing you guys are.” 

Wade sneers, “Clearly it isn’t as good.”

Your eyes find Wade, he hasn’t warmed up to you the same way that Kurt did. He’s still a naive boy, only eighteen. He’s still got a lot to learn when it comes to mentoring. That making enemies shouldn’t be the top priority on the list. When your tributes team up, you’ll want the other mentors to be cooperative.

“I’d be careful if I were you.” Finnick says, you can hear the smile in his words, “You might just end up eating those words.”

One last look over him, and then it’s back to your favorite three, “Anyway, you guys know Finnick, right?”

“Yeah! Honestly I was a little surprised when I saw him at the Tribute Parade.” Cashmere says, “What’s got you back on the move, Peacock?”

You can hardly hide the surprise that washes over you. The use of his Capitol-given nickname has got to sting, especially with everything that the Capitol does to him. You know that every time that it’s brought up with you, your mood dies instantly and you make sure that the person never brings it up again.

You press your lips together, eyes slowly making their way to him. Finnick’s a lot smoother than you are when it comes to holding back his emotions sometimes, “(Y/n)’s pretty convincing when she’s threatening you.”

A smile creeps onto your face, “I only had to do it once, so you know it’s pretty effective.”

“It’s nice to see you two together again.” Enobaria says, “Where are you two off to?”

“I’m getting a tattoo, I invited Finnick along.” the clock on the wall says that you’ve got about a half hour before your appointment, “We should probably get going, don’t want to make my favorite artist unhappy.”

“It was nice to see you.” Gloss says, “We’ll pass on the word to our tributes.”

“Thanks, I’ll see you guys later.” you wave, to your favorite three.

You only get a couple steps away, before you’re grabbing Wade’s collar with both hands, yanking him towards you. He’s quick, pressing both of his hands to your shoulders and leaning away. But his eyes are searching your face, panic expressed through his eyes at the dead serious look you’re giving him.

“Next time, you should watch how you talk to me. Otherwise, you’ll have a pretty problem on your hands.” you shove him back, “And my eyes are up here, fuckhead.”

You hold the door open for Finnick, give Wade a final glare, and then turn your back to them. After you’ve rounded the corner, you roll your eyes and let out a heavy sigh.

“Well, you beat me to it.” Finnick says, “I was going to say something.”

“I’m on top of it. I’ve always been on top of it.” you then give Finnick a smile, “Not my first rodeo, cowboy.”

Finnick’s face twists, “Don’t call me that, ever.”

You laugh at his face, “Bet it’s better than being called Peacock, huh?”

He shrugs, “I don’t mind it all that much. It could be worse.” and then his eyes fall on you, suggesting your title without even saying a word.

Your jaw sets, you grit your teeth and look away. You don’t want to be known as a name so harsh, it’s not who you are. Only in unique moments does the name seem to fit like it does. Leave it to Finnick to get something so delicate and flowery, and for you to be known as the opposite.

The Executioner. And yet, you can’t get any of your tributes to follow in the same bloody footsteps that you’ve walked. 

“I wish they’d picked something else.”

“Like what?” Finnick asks, it’s quiet for a moment, until he breaks it with his own laugh, “The Betrayer.”

“Traitor.” you correct, “And to be fair, I’ve heard that one too. During the Victory Tour, don’t you remember District Two shouting that at me? They weren’t very happy.”

“Who cares what District Two thinks?” Finnick scoffs, “District Eight felt the same way about me. It’s not my fault that their older teenagers don’t know how to take care of themselves.”

That’s fair, actually. One of the tributes was eighteen, the other was seventeen. Both went at Finnick, you think that the girl died first and the boy died second. He came around later when you were half-dead inside of the cave. Finnick never stopped working for the title even while you were gone.

“Either way, I got the short straw.”

Finnick’s voice is quiet, “I think it makes you fierce.”

You look over your shoulder, eyes finding Finnick’s. Soft, green, gentle. Genuine. He’s the first to smile, the light reaching his eyes. Just for a second, you can see the boy he used to be, making your heart twist sadly. You won’t ever get him back, will you?

You smile too.

–

The tattoo’s don’t take long, just like how you expected. Permanently embedded in the skin on your collarbone, are the names of your parents. With Ryatt, your father, on top, and your mother, Aesira, on bottom. You would’ve got them over your heart, but you and Finnick agreed that it was too cheesy.

Finnick decided to go down the same path you did. So, after you got your tattoos done, you sat off to the side and watched as Finnick got his own family on his left shoulder blade. Just like how your parents are gone, his entire family is gone too, including his younger brother.

That summer was by far the hardest for the both of you.

It took months to find out, but eventually Laurel came around with the details. The following year, when you were eighteen and Finnick had turned seventeen, you were told exactly why everything crashed and burned the year before. 

The Capitol is sick, a lot worse than you originally thought. Forget the marketing towards new victors, and the Hunger Games themselves. If a victor is good-looking and sponsors do ‘well’, they’re given the victor as a reward. President Coriolanus Snow himself talks to the victor, tells them that they either go into prostitution, or they get a surprise disaster.

Well, Finnick didn’t decline at first. He came back to the Tribute Center and broke up with you, actually. Finnick tried to back out of the deal a couple of days later, but Snow had already made up his mind. Finnick missed an important arrangement that Snow set up, and in return, Snow killed Finnick’s entire family in one swoop without batting an eye.

You vaguely remember Finnick being upset, but it really came down on him when you got back to District Four. You knew about his family dying when you came back, not all the rest. The only people Finnick invited to the funeral was your family, and that was the last time the two of you have ever been close. After that, the warmth turned to ice, and there was no reviving it.

You can’t imagine coming home to an empty house every year. You don’t know how Finnick does it. Even if he doesn’t want to take part in the mentorship or the boarding school, you’d think that he’d come out and train teenagers, anyway. It’s better than being shut in a place so quiet and cemetery-like. The times you’re alone in your own house gives you chills.

Finnick doesn’t seem so sullen after the tattoo. He looks a little more alive, actually. He doesn’t have to say it, you already know that he’s glad he came along. The two of you end up coming after the tributes, though. It’s well past lunch, almost time for dinner.

As much as you enjoy Finnick’s presence, you end up outside on the balcony again by yourself. You like the fresh air and the serenity of being away from the others. You could always do the same thing in your room, but it doesn’t have the same effect. Out here, you don’t feel like you’re being watched.

Elysia comes and gets you on her way to get your tributes for dinner. You thank her, as always, and then make your way to the dining room. Finnick’s standing next to Pleurisy and Laurel when you get out there. Once they see you, it’s big smiles and bright chatter.

“How was it?” you ask, looking to Annie and Marsh.

Annie’s got a small smile on her face, “I think that I’ve scored high. The gamemakers looked interested in what I had to offer, so that was a pretty good sign.”

“What about you?” Finnick asks.

Marsh shrugs slightly, “I was nervous and fumbled, barely recovered.”

“Fumbling is normal, the gamemakers hardly react to it.” you tell him, “Trust me, you’re not the first, and you won’t be the last. Even I missed when I was with the gamemakers.”

“And you scored a ten.” Marsh says.

“And I scored a ten.” you repeat.

It seems to raise his spirits enough for him to talk more during dinner. Afterwards, you all gather on the couches. Elysia, Laurel and Pleurisy sit together in one bunch. You and Finnick next to each other, and Annie and Marsh take up the middle of the couch to see the screen dead on.

“Just before it starts, you guys should know that it’s normal for the careers to score between eights and tens. Rarely does anyone have the skill to get above a ten.” you say, and then Elysia turns the tv on.

Caesar Flickerman comes onto the screen with a white smile. It’s time to get started, it’ll start with District One, boys first. A picture of their faces will appear on screen, and their numbers will flash below.

You’re fully expecting a hard start with District One, since they always score high, but you’re genuinely surprised when the boy scores an eight and the girl a nine. Your mouth falls open, a laugh passing through you, “Well, there’s a twist.”

“Seriously.” Finnick says, “Looks like you two don’t have anything to worry about, after all.”

District Two isn’t as tough, the boy gets a ten, the girl a nine. Which means that Enobaria and Wade have triumphed over Cashmere and Gloss for the first time in years. Rarely do they score over District One. Yes, this year is surely something else, isn’t it?

Three isn’t as memorable, but when Marsh appears on screen, the room falls into a hush. You lean your elbows on your knees, fingers laced together, “District Four, Marsh Millilio with a score of nine.” Caesar smiles.

“Oh!” you laugh, sitting up.

All of you give Marsh a pretty good congratulations, shaking his shoulder and exchanging grins. The tension seems to dissipate from his body, and he relaxes against the couch, “If I did good, then so did Annie.”

“District Four, Annie Cresta, also with a score of nine.”

There’s loud cheering, Annie’s face turns a burning shade of red, but she’s definitely as excited as the rest of you. You can’t imagine how good the two of them are feeling right now. They’re careers, through and through. 

They’ve got high scores. All that’s left is to sweep the Capitol off their feet during the interviews.


	4. Chapter 4

This morning, you’re up and out of bed without a single complaint. You sit on the bed for a while, staring out the window and watching as the city slowly comes to life. Traffic is light for the first hour or so, but it doesn’t stay like that. You can imagine that everyone is anticipating tomorrow, the last day before the games start.

One breather day before it all goes downhill. 

You get out of bed after that, taking your time inside of the shower, mainly trying to find what Annie and Marsh will be like during the interviews. There’s nothing that the Capitol hasn’t seen before, seventy years worth of the Hunger Games--they’ve experienced it all. The most you can do is put a twist on an adjective. 

New approaches are always hard, you’re competing with ten to twenty other mentors. Most of them have been at this longer than you have--mainly Haymitch. But to be fair, Haymitch gave up on this whole scheme a while ago. The only thing he does anymore is drink and make a fool of himself on television all the time.

Sad to say, but District Twelve isn’t a threat at all. They didn’t even really post a threat during your games, either. That’s a conversation for a different day, though. You’re not really willing to get into it anymore. Your focus needs to be on helping Annie and Marsh.

By the time you’re dressed and in the dining room, you’ve still come up with nothing. The only other person at the table this morning is Finnick, which is a pleasant surprise. Elysia is always the first and last person out of the dining room. Not to mention, you’re pretty sure she sits out here and waits hours for you guys to appear. It explains why she has the tv on all the time when you get out here.

“Looks like you’ve got an early start going on too.” you say, heading down the steps.

He hums, head dips and then he’s shooting upright in his seat.

“Okay, maybe not.” you stop next to him, grabbing his chin with one hand to make him look up at you. His pupils are dilated, bags beneath his eyes. He looks much older here, not the same guy he was yesterday, “How about you take today off?”

“I’m fine.” he murmurs, moving your hand away, “Just a late night.”

“Go sleep while you can.” you tell him, “Hopefully some of the drugs will wear off by then.”

“They already have, they don’t work anymore.” he yawns, and then moves the plates out of his way so he can rest his head on his arms.

You count in your head how long it takes for him to fall asleep. At five seconds, you get your breakfast, at ten his closed eyes aren’t as tense. When it hits fifteen, his mouth parts and body slumps. He’s out cold by eighteen, nice and steady breaths. It’s going to be a quiet morning after all.

“Can I get something to write on?” you ask the avox.

She gives you a curt nod and disappears. In the meantime, you eat your breakfast and stare at Finnick, who looks like he’s never had a tense moment in his life. The only times Finnick truly looks relaxed is when he’s not awake. As if he’s never been in the Hunger Games, his family isn’t gone, and he’s never worked every night in the Capitol since he turned sixteen.

Your stomach churns, heart squeezing painfully. You try not to frown, but it’s hard not to. A part of you wonders if this is what you look like to your family when you accidentally fall asleep on the couch or in the study, working on paperwork for the boarding school. You’re just a pair of overworked kids, who have never had a peaceful moment since the Hunger Games.

The avox comes back around, you quietly thank her and ask her to clean up Finnick’s plates. She doesn’t disturb him, clearly good at her job. You chew on the inside of your cheek while writing down different adjectives that could describe Annie and Marsh’s personalities right now.

Annie is quiet, she doesn’t speak unless it’s a dire situation or you’ve asked a question. She’s smart and trusting, she can work her way around problems and read into cryptic messages. She’s kind, you’ve seen the way she helps the others in the boarding school, but she’s easily deadly, the way she fights is completely mesmerizing. She’s the last person you’d expect to betray you, which is why she could easily have an advantage over a large alliance. People wouldn’t expect her to sabotage them.

As for Marsh, he’s nearly the opposite when he isn’t feeling anxious. He’s loud, he’ll easily let someone know what he thinks about them, especially if it’s not good. He’s strong, you’ve seen him pick up people twice his weight, but that doesn’t make him a good fighter, exactly. He wrestles pretty well, can get anyone into a position that’ll bring them to tears because of the pain. He smiles a lot, cracks jokes when he can. 

You hum lightly, feeling it all come together. Marsh is fun, loud, he can make a show out of the interview. Three minutes would be enough to have the entire audience in stitches. It might even surprise the audience a little, since they always expect the careers to be brooding and quiet, always banking on their training scores. But if Marsh is constantly moving and interacting with the audience, they’ll be taken off guard.

Same thing with Annie, but she isn’t as naturally smooth like he is. She can be friendly and compassionate on stage, the complete opposite of deadly. The Capitol has been holding onto stereotypes for years, and the tributes have been feeding into it. Even you did the same, by promising your family that you’d come home. If Annie just acts as the definition of kind, she’ll be turning it around.

You write this all down, as well as some notes and starter questions that could test their act. You want them to completely avoid conversations about their scores and how well prepared they are. Their scores already say that about them, now it’s time for the citizens to see that they’re exciting.

Around noon, Elysia finally comes through the door. She barely spares you and Finnick a glance at first, but then she pauses on the stairs to take a look at him, “Is he sleeping?”

“Late night, apparently.” you look at her, “I’m ready to get started when you are.”

“Give me a couple of minutes.” she smiles, and then leaves into the hallway.

Unfortunately, this means that Finnick can’t sleep any longer. At least he got a couple of hours while it was possible. You lean against the table slightly, “Finnick.”

He doesn’t move, not even stirring. You wonder what else he took on top of the regular ‘fun’ drugs. Maybe he drank along with it, and knowing the Capitol, it’s not as dangerous as it sounds. You call his name again, but he’s still pretty out of it. A part of you wonders if he’d actually care letting the tributes see him in such a vulnerable state. But if it were you, you’d hope that he’d wake you up.

You slide out of your chair, letting it scrape against the wood floors. You grimace at the thought of touching him to wake him up, you know for a fact that you hated it when your brothers used to do it. It took for that one time when you accidentally went overboard for them to realize that you meant what you were saying about it being a bad idea.

They tried to tell you that you’d never hurt them. But you had to emphasize that it wasn’t you that was waking up first, it’s the scared girl that spent an entire month in an arena that was trying to kill her. She’s going to come out offensive and on the move, you’re going to be right behind her.

Even reminding them about the time someone came up behind you after the games didn’t convince them either. It was right after the Hunger Games too, before the Victory Tour. Some idiot reporter came up behind you as a surprise, and it took half a second before the world went grey and you thought the reporter was the District Twelve boy.

And since in the Hunger Games, the only way to get home is to kill, you nearly murdered the reporter. It would’ve happened if it weren’t for your brothers, who took a hit in the process anyway. If you remember correctly, Mox came out with a bruised rib, which isn’t easy to do considering that he’s pretty much muscle. And you almost broke Reed’s nose, there was blood leaking from it for a good ten minutes afterward.

You guess that they were trying to give you the benefit of the doubt, but after a while, you’re just intentionally getting burned, you know? There’s only so much you can do for a person before you need to take their word for it. It’s fine if you’re not perfectly healed just yet. Time does not heal all wounds, some of them will be open forever.

You gently place your hand on Finnick’s back, rubbing it, “Hey, Finnick?” you try your motherly voice, but it still doesn’t seem to be working. Maybe he’s dead.

“Finnick.” you apply more pressure, hearing him take a deep breath.

His arms stretch out beneath him, head slowly raising. You back off, and run a hand through your hair on your way back to your place at the table. Finnick’s got red lines from his clothing across his face, eyes automatically in a squint. His eyebrows push together, looking at your first.

“What time is it?”

“Noonish.” you say, “Tributes are gonna come out in a minute, Elysia is back.”

“You just left me out here?” his nose scrunches.

“No, I actually sat out here the entire time.” you sit in your seat, and then frisbee the notepad across the table for him to look at.

He rubs his face, which is still twisted as he tries to read what you’ve written, “Creep.”

You roll your eyes.

As he reads, Elysia comes out looking more refreshed, “Tributes will be down here in a moment.” she joins you and Finnick at the table, “Am I starting with Annie first?”

“If you want, our plans go either way.” you say, watching as Finnick tilts his head, “What do you think?”

“It’s a twist.” he says, “I’m not sure how they’ll like it, but we can definitely try.”

“Everything’s worth a try nowadays.”

“Can I see?” Elysia asks, Finnick hands it over to her. She reads over it silently, a smile coming to her face as she nods, “Yeah, I think this’ll be good. I’ll try to work that into what we normally do.”

Elysia hands it back to you, Marsh and Annie come out of the hallway. They’re not dressed in anything fancy, not even in something that the stylists have picked out. Normally what the tributes wear are totally up to the stylists, starting from the tribute parade, to the training days, to the interviews. Today is the only day where you’re able to see how they want to be dressed.

Annie’s laid back, a pair of leggings and a loose tank top. She’s got her hair tied back, and gives you and Elysia a polite smile on her way over. Marsh is more casually dressed, jeans, a shirt, a pair of tennis shoes, his hair styled. It says a lot about personality and how they think.

“Good afternoon, hope you guys slept well.” you smile, and then give Finnick a side-eye. He’s not very amused.

“I definitely felt a lot better last night.” Marsh nearly skips down the steps, he’s a lot more confident now, “Since we have good scores, it’s hard to think otherwise.”

He takes his spot at the table, Annie takes hers, “I’m still nervous,” she admits.

You don’t have to say a single thing to her. In fact, Marsh seems to have it all handled this afternoon. He’s definitely had a change of heart. You finish eating, leaving the table to go down to the living room to rearrange chairs and set things up properly. It’s not long until your tributes are full and ready to get started.

“We’re taking Marsh first.” you click the pen, Finnick joins your side.

Elysia guides Annie towards her room, Marsh comes down to where you are. You motion for him to take his seat, which is opposite of the one that you’re sitting in. Finnick takes the role of audience, leaning his head against his fist. He’s got tired eyes, still not awake. You can’t really blame him.

“How do you feel about being in front of an audience?” you ask.

He hesitates, “Is this an interview question?”

“No, not yet.”

“Oh, well…” he thinks for a moment, “I mean, I don’t mind them. The parade wasn’t all that bad. But I think that’s because I was being compared to others, I knew I wasn’t the best or the worst out there.”

You give him a smile, “Well, we’re going for the best here. So, here’s what we’re going to do--”

It’s simple, and Marsh seems to understand it the first time around. No matter what happens on that stage, Caesar shouldn’t ever get the opportunity to make enough tension to ruin the light mood. Marsh needs to be confident, exciting, funny and relatable the entire time.

Which means that if Marsh needs to spend time lining up jokes, then he needs to get to it. You suggest jokes on the expense of District Four--or any of the districts, really--his family if he’s comfortable, and spin it. Make the Capitol look grand and amazing, like kings and queens compared to peasants. However, he needs to be careful not to make him sound sarcastic and overbearing.

There’s a whole list of things that Marsh needs to avoid at all costs; certain family topics, token significance, if he misses home, his training score, what he thinks of the competition, etc. He’s not at all allowed to give the Capitol enough information on him to run with. Tributes in the past have been mysterious, but mentors have combined it with brooding.

Marsh is going to be memorable, fun-loving. Caesar might even reference him in the future when it comes to seeing District Four tributes. What twist will the mentors have to give this year? Stay tuned to see, and if you blink too much, you’ll miss it.

And since it’s not really a coaching lesson without some practice, you and Finnick take turns drilling him. Marsh is clearly a natural at this, he starts off a little stiff, jokes dry and shy smiles. You had to tell him that he needs to stop looking at you as a mentor and as a Capitol citizen who is so unimpressed by how boring he is.

After that, he took it more seriously, and even had you and Finnick cracking up some of the time. Only a few times do you have to remind him not to go too hard on District Four, and how he barely scrapes by with questionable statements about the Capitol. In the end, he’s at a different standing point.

Elysia comes out with Annie, ready to trade. Annie’s flustered, standing at the top of the stairs. She must have done something inside of the room to get scolded, or maybe she was praised? You don’t care, you push Marsh up the stairs and let Annie take a quick snack break before you start the process over.

“Marsh’s interview is going to be a comedy skit.” you tell her once she’s sat down. You and Finnick have switched spots so that he can ask the questions, “We figured that you wouldn’t be as comfortable with a job like that. So, we want you to be as kind as possible.”

Annie’s eyebrows draw in, “If you’re trying to go for unique, you’re going to be failing with me. Plenty of people go for kind.”

“Not the careers.” Finnick says, “Careers always sneak in some aspect of dangerousness. You’re not going to, at all. You got a nine, but Annie Cresta is going to be a kind girl from Four who’s absolutely beguiled by the Capitol.”

A small smile is forming on your face, “You’re going to have to be an actress for three minutes on stage. Do you think you can do it?”

Annie gives a curt nod. Finnick’s smiling now too. You can’t launch straight into the interview, instead you have to give Annie a few pointers beforehand. She catches on quickly, just like Marsh. However, with her, she’s got the act down on lock, she doesn’t even need to be corrected.

And when Finnick alludes to her training score, she easily redirects the conversation somewhere else. Maybe it’s a compliment on the experts inside of the center, or maybe it reminds her about the food she’s eaten! Either way, Annie’s a brick wall, and not even you two can get through to her on the sneakiest questions.

At dinner, Marsh, Annie and Finnick are exhausted, you think that you’re starting to feel it too. Needless to say, it makes for a calm and quiet evening. Annie and Marsh pack it up and head to their rooms around seven, there’s not a single sound that comes from their rooms after.

You sit on the edge of a table next to Elysia and Finnick. You’ve got your arms crossed, Elysia has her fingers perfectly laced in front of her, and Finnick is rubbing under his eye.

“Tomorrow’s the big day.” Elysia says, “I think that you two will be able to sleep in and get up later on, since the prep team will have them.”

“We still have to get up with enough time to dress nicely. Sometime in the afternoon, then?”

“That’ll probably work.” Finnick says, you watch as he twists the loose rope on the bracelet into small loops big enough to slip his pinky through.

You tilt your head up towards the roof, eye following the cracks along the ceiling, “Are you busy tomorrow night?”

“After the interviews?” 

You think you can see a stain on the ceiling, a faint red color, like someone scrubbed the ceiling, “Yeah.” you look back at him.

“No, I don’t think so. The festival knocks out anything that would happen.” His eyes find yours, abandoning the bracelet, “Why?”

Elysia shifts on her feet, “Do you need me for anything else?”

“Uh,” you pause for a moment, thinking. You don’t think so, tomorrow you’ll probably have trouble sleeping past ten, so you’ll be up and doing something. The interviews always have you nervous, no matter how well prepared your tributes are. And as always, this year is no exception, “I don’t think so. I’ll find you if I do.”

She looks at Finnick next, who gives her a slight head shake, “Goodnight, don’t exhaust yourself.”

The last sentence is directed towards you, “Goodnight, Elysia. Thank you for your help today.

She leaves, giving you and Finnick privacy. His eyes are back to being trained on your face. A part of you wonders if you should even bother with an offer like this, you’re sure that he would much rather stay here, or go wherever he used to when the festivities came around after the interviews. 

You know you used to shut yourself in your room and be absolutely quiet. Quiet enough to hear every single thing that would happen outside of your door, sometimes extended to the living room if Elysia, Laurel and Pleurisy were gathered together. You couldn’t handle it. The night before the games is always the worst, it makes your chest ache at all the second thoughts that had run through your mind.

The what-if scenarios, the thousands of possibilities of what the arena could look like. The different ways you could die. Would it be in the bloodbath after one small mistake? Would it be by the hands of your allies after realizing they were stupid to invite a fifteen year-old to join them? Would it be by your former ally and friend, Finnick, to get you out of the way?

Even trying to project the image of you winning the games didn’t work. You were overwhelmed and anxious and completely unknowing of what your future would be. You didn’t want to end up like all those other kid tributes that end up dead after a few days. You didn’t want to make the same mistakes that you used to make fun of back home.

You can’t imagine how that’s going to go for Annie and Marsh, who volunteered to be here. You know you would be regretting it about now, especially since they’re so close to the cut off age. They could be back home, with their families. But they’re here instead, about to be thrown into an arena to fight for their lives.

This apartment is a cage to tributes, you’re lucky that it doesn’t extend the same way to victors.

“After the interviews, the group and I normally go and hang out around the festival.” you uncross your arms, placing them on the table behind you to lean back, “We eat at a nice restaurant, I normally watch them get drunk. You can come with, if you want.”

Finnick doesn’t say anything, face relaxing for a moment. Maybe he thought you were going to say something else? You stop leaning against the table, “You don’t have to go. They’re not your friends, I just thought I’d offer.”

“Why do you go out with them?” he asks, eyebrows drawing in, “You don’t seem like the type to go out there anyway.” he presses his lips together, “Actually, you don’t really intermingle with the Capitol unless you really have to.”

A couple of things come to mind, one by one. The first one is that Finnick has obviously been paying attention to you over the past couple of years. He just gave that away with telling you how your own mannerisms are. However, he clearly doesn’t follow you that closely, because you go out a lot more when you have the time. The other mentors are a getaway when you’re feeling particularly in your head.

The second thing is how his whole demeanor seems to have changed after you told him he didn’t have to. Maybe it’s because you’re backpedaling, but it’s not because you don’t want him there. You know that you’ve been taking up his time over the past couple of days, which has been conflicting with his needy Capitol schedule. You wouldn’t blame him if he just wanted to be alone or something.

The third is how he’s redirected it to you, not answering the question. Normally people will assure you that they’ll go or they have plans before asking you something like this. You don’t want to say he’s getting defensive but it’s hard not to.

Your voice is a lot quieter, a lot softer than you expect to come out, “They’re my friends, Finnick. And they make me feel normal again.” you squint for a moment, and then let out a sigh, “If you don’t want to go, you could’ve just said so. Forget I said anything.”

You slip away, Finnick doesn’t say anything. When you get back to your room, you silently peel off your clothes and get dressed into something more comfortable. You have a feeling that you’ll sleep pretty soundly tonight, considering how exhausted you are. You drop your ring into the small bowl on the bedside table, and then roll over in bed until you’re comfortable.

\--

You wake up a little after ten, but don’t leave your room until eleven. The dining room is empty, your tributes have already eaten and are experiencing their own version of chaos inside of their bedrooms with the prep teams. Who knows where Finnick is, after what happened last night. And Elysia is probably off with Pleurisy and Laurel since she has the free time to, and you told her that you wouldn’t need her at all this morning.

You don’t eat much, a little hung up over how you left things last night with Finnick. It’s hard not to think about it, and the mistake you made with your choice of words. Not only did they come out more mean than you intended, but you’re also pretty sure you just ruined whatever progress you’ve made over the past week.

You don’t know if you can stay inside of the apartment all day today. It’ll still be a few hours before Annie and Marsh are ready to be brought to the stage. Until then, you can just disappear and come back in time to go. You decide to go with this, heading back to your room.

You shower, let the machines take care of your hair. It goes from wet and tangled to dry and smooth. You take your time with styling it, after being with Beth for this many years, you’ve learned a thing or two. A majority of your hair is out of your face, you’ll be sure to let it down later. Sometimes during the interviews, the cameras will pan to the mentors or stylists depending on the question.

You brush your teeth while finding what you want to wear. A pant suit could be nice, but you have a feeling that Laurel is already going to go down that path. Still, you can’t help but to run your fingers over the beige and white fabric. The only other real option you have is a dress, but they’re tricky and there’s certain rules you have to follow when wearing one.

You settle for the suit, carefully putting it together one item at a time. White high-waisted underwear that doesn’t show the seams through the pants, a matching bra. You go with a v-neck white shirt, since it’s not going to be seen after the blazer is buttoned. The slacks just barely stop at your ankles, you pull out new white heels that don’t go super high.

In the bathroom, you think you look sophisticated. You think that you might even keep your hair up the way it is, since it doesn’t really matter anyway. You apply the silver jewelry that you think will go with the outfit, and spare a lot of rings so that you aren’t clunky.

Makeup is the hardest part, so you end up calling Leo to come and help you. He’s impressed with the way you look, and works quickly so that he can get back to Annie. By the time you leave the apartment, you’re practically skipping in confidence. You take the elevator down to the lobby, a place already in mind.

Coincidentally, your friends are already gathered in the lobby. Cashmere notices you immediately, a smile spreading over her face. The others look over too, but Wade isn’t as thrilled as the rest of them. They’re dressed just as nicely as you are, you guess you just caught them on their way out too.

“Hey! Long time no see.” Cashmere greets, you snort and settle between Gloss and Enobaria.

“Hey, what are you guys up to?” you smile.

“Pre-gaming.” Gloss says.

“Pre--huh?” you look between them, they let out a small laugh, “The interviews are that torturous for you guys?”

Enobaria nods, “Yeah, I’m tired of sitting through them.”

“Can’t blame you. So, you’re going out to a bar?”

“Something like that.” Gloss says, “Want to come along?”

You tilt your head, giving him a face, “I am not going to drink.”

“Then don’t!” Cashmere grins, “You coming along is going to be good enough. We’ll be back before the tributes are done.”

“Promise me.” you point at her.

She uses her finger to draw an x over her heart, “I promise.”

“Alright, let’s go then.”

They cheer, you laugh and follow behind Enobaria and Wade, making a line with the Ritchson siblings. They place you between them so that you’re more included, and this way they won’t be tempted to fuck with each other. The last time you all hung out before the interviews--or anything important, for that matter--they had to have a last minute costume change because there were rips and dirt smeared everywhere.

Unlike them, you’re wearing light colors, so you’ve got to be extra careful when it comes to touching anything. Gloss and Wade are wearing black, Enobaria’s wearing a dark maroon dress, and Cashmere has got a muted purple dress. You guess that Cashmere’s going to have to be careful too because the purple is kinda light.

They’re all pretty animated, fairly loud when they’re excited. You go along with conversation--which really doesn’t have a range. It can be about Enobaria’s boyfriend drama back home, or how Cashmere had to scold her tributes over their training scores. And since she started that topic, you decided to go ahead and ask questions about it.

“They were supposed to be prepared!” Cashmere rolls his eyes, picking at her nails slightly with a frown, “They told me that they’d been working hard in the gym and I believed them. The one year I try and slack so it doesn’t seem like I have a stick up my ass, and this is what I get.”

You breathe out a laugh.

“I’m serious! The tributes are always calling us names because of how strict we are, and then shit like this happens. It sucks that it takes a problem to prove to people that you’re right.” she looks at you, “Congrats on your tributes scoring nines, though. I can’t imagine how happy you guys were.”

“Extremely.” you say, “It’s fixed how they’ve been thinking for the past week, so thank heavens for that.”

Gloss shrugs one shoulder, you look over to him, “I bet we’ve lost sponsors.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous--” Enobaria glances over her shoulder at you three, “--they could’ve scored ones and they’d still end up with plenty of sponsors.”

“She’s right.” you say, shaking your head, “You have nothing to worry about. I’ll be lucky if we even get a couple since we’re not with you guys this year.”

“Which is a bummer, I like hanging out with you.” Cashmere sighs, she twirls a ring of her blonde hair around her finger before letting the curl drop. She looks at you, “We’ll still be friends no matter what happens in the arena, right?”

“Our tributes have killed each other plenty of times, Cashmere. And still, here we are.” you give her a smile, and then share one with Gloss, “You’re my best friends… except for Wade, he’s an asshole.”

He glares over his shoulder, he’s the exception to the group laughter that follows after your statement. It’s his own fault that he’s alienated. You’re half-surprised that he didn’t leave as soon as you showed up at the lobby.

Enobaria leads you all to an expensive bar, you vaguely remember going here before. It was only once, you think. And it’s because of the prices, the alcohol here is strong and expensive. You come here to get drunk, not to dance around the idea of being tipsy. Although, you wouldn’t think that initially.

The entire bar is made up of two colors: a gentle pink color, and pure white. Straight out of some sort of fantasy. And despite its expenses and the fact that it’s the day of the interviews, it’s full of people. For a moment, you’re sure you guys will have to be put on some sort of waiting list, with no empty seats visibly available. But Gloss knows the person at the door, and you all get led to a special room in the back.

Which looks nothing like it does out there. Sleek black couches, dark hardwood floors, minimalistic lamps and succulent plants on tables. There’s one clock on the wall, and absolutely no windows. Enobaria pulls the door shut behind her.

You sit on the second couch, the one that faces the tv better. With you sitting flush against the arm, Gloss sits on the other end. There’s still plenty of space between you two, so you stretch out enough to be comfortable. When you’re done, you’re still not touching him.

Cashmere picks the standing up menu off of the coffee table, flips it open and sits back. Enobaria sits next to her, turning on the television, which is defaulted to Claudius and Caesar. A part of you wonders if the people here watch anything else. They could have hundreds of channels, and yet they default to the news? Wade sits by himself in a distant chair, one leg crossed over the other.

If he’s trying to appear older than he is, all he’s doing is looking like an idiot. It’s going to be hard for him to redeem himself after the show he put on a couple of days ago. Talk about being classy.

“You guys hungry? Looks like they serve food.” Cashmere says, passing the menu to her right, Gloss takes it.

You lean into him, nothing really sparks your interest. Besides, you just ate, “I’m good.”

“Well, I’ll take whatever the hell a ‘Ritchson Siblings’ is.” Gloss says, face scrunching, “Why did they have to use our last name?”

“I bet it’s probably some fruity drink.” You smile slyly, earning glares from both of them. Enobaria’s laughing under her breath.

“I’ll take one too.” Cashmere says, taking the menu from Gloss, and then passes it to Enobaria.

“Do they have a Golding special?” She jokes, and then her eyebrows raise, “Oh shit, do they have all of us? Mine looks like a Bloody Mary.” 

You lean forward, hand outstretched, “Give me the menu.”

“I thought you didn’t care.” Gloss teases, you mock him slightly, earning a laugh.

Enobaria hands over the menu, allowing you to get a good look at the menu. At the top is the name of the bar, which explains it all; The Victory Speech. Under it is a fine print on how the drinks are supposed to get you blackout drunk so that you don’t remember anything. And when people get shitfaced, they tend to talk about things they’re not supposed to.

It’s cleverly designed, they switch colors every year. This year’s theme is to support the female victors. When you ask about this, Cashmere says: “Misogyny.” And that practically sums it up.

Anyway, you go down the list. Victors before the fiftieth Hunger Games have a section called ‘Old Timer’s’ because they’re all over the age of sixty at this point. Under this section is Mags and Luther since they’re both pretty old. But it’s vague, and they don’t really name names. 

However, after the fiftieth games, it starts with names. Haymitch’s is called ‘Blackout’, and you can’t imagine what that entrails. For all you know, there could be a fucking roofie to ensure you don’t surprise. It probably tastes like literal acid and poison. But knowing the Capitol, they likely found a way to make it taste enjoyable.

Anchor’s is called ‘King of the Sea’ but you also remember people calling it ‘The Sailor’. The drink is twenty different shades of blue, and the foam on top makes it look like the ocean. The ice is in shapes of boats, fish and tridents to make it as appealing as possible.

Enobaria was right about hers looking like a Bloody Mary. It’s blood red, but it doesn’t look like it has tomato juice, more that the alcohol itself is red. The ice in hers is milk white, and you recoil at the thought of it. The title to hers is ‘Bloody Mistake’.

Cashmere and Gloss share their own with ‘Ritchson Siblings’, which isn’t a very fun name, considering all the ones before theirs. If you were to retitle, you think you’d go with ‘Infamous’. The Capitol absolutely loves the hell out of them. Their combined drink is yellow, but it’s shimmery in the picture. And you were right about the fruit, because the fruit is the ice.

And then it’s you and Finnick, separate names and drinks but it’s tied together with a special font that says ‘Complementary!’ and right beside it is a discount offer if you’re ordered together. 

His is called ‘Prodigy’, probably a jab at his age when you guys won. It’s completely see-through, you’re not even able to see a chunk of ice in the picture. It comes with a silver trident that sticks out of the cup, blades up. On the end of the points is a lime. The drink is likely brutal if it has an offer of a chaser.

And yours is called ‘Traitor’, which you can’t even be surprised about. It’s clever marketing though, because the appearance is a light blue, with white foam on top. The alcohol is shimmery too, the ice cubes shaped like fish. Sticking out the top is a gummy palm tree, you think. You just know that it’s going to be strong-tasting.

Finally, the last one that you least care about is Wade’s. The moment you read the name of the drink, you’re cracking up. You then remember what his personality was like in his interviews, which was full of intellectually big words to impress the audience and make him look smart. The name is probably the biggest insult, ‘Know-It-All’.

It’s a lime green, there’s chunks of something inside of it, you can’t tell what. Maybe it’s flavored ice? There’s no way to find out unless you actually drink it, and you think that you’d pass. Besides, the name alone is a dead giveaway that this one is going to be strong too. It’s probably a good representation of the whole bar, actually.

“Maybe I will have a drink.” You snort, holding it out for Wade to take. He silently slips it from your fingers and flips it open to read.

“That’s the spirit!” Enobaria says, grinning.

“Oh, great.” Wade rolls his eyes, folds the menu and tosses it on the table, “I’ll pass.”

“Kid needs to learn to loosen up.” Gloss mutters.

“I’ll go and get the drinks.” You push your rings back into place, “What do you guys want?”

“I’ll take my special.” Enobaria says, and Gloss and Cashmere agree on their own. It takes some convincing, but Wade eventually comes around to the idea of taking one of the older victor’s drinks.

You don’t really need to jot it down, so you promise them that you’ll be back in a moment and slip out of the room. The main room is a nice between of loud and quiet. You can hear the private conversations of others, but just barely.

And it seems as if it’s only gotten busier since you first came here. Must be a popular place to go before certain events. You can’t imagine what it’s going to look like after the interviews. Probably packed from front to back, and you can imagine them transforming it into some type of club. It’s got the capabilities of doing so.

You move your hair behind your shoulder, leaning up against the counter while you wait for the bartender to come around. You’re not the first here, and it doesn’t look like you’re going to be the last. If you were to take a guess, you think that The Victory Speech is going to empty out when the interviews come around.

As you wait patiently, playing with one of your rings, you feel a gentle pressure against your lower back, and then feel the presence of someone. Before you can turn, the person is leaning in, “Hey, what are you doing here?” It’s Finnick, and he’s speaking directly into your ear.

You look over your shoulder to see him leaned in close. He’s dressed as nicely as you are, and it looks like you think the exact same way. He’s in a brown suit with a white undershirt. Your eyebrows draw in, one of you will have to change this evening, unless he doesn’t mind matching with you.

You’re about to answer, but your eyes find that he’s got quite the audience that’s watching him. You wonder what he’s here for, and if it concerns any of these people. 

Either way, you shrug slightly and try not to be too bothered by where his hand is, “I’m with Gloss and them since they wanted to drink before the interviews.” You give him a little smile, “I’m getting the drinks, do you want to join us?”

Finnick doesn’t answer your question, “Are you sure you should be drinking?” He asks, as if you’re the irresponsible one here. With him avoiding your questions, you must have done something to set him off like this.

Nonetheless, you shake your head, and turn so that you’re halfway facing him. Because of this, his fingers ghost your waist and he has to rethink his hand placement. He goes for your arm now. Why is he so touchy all of a sudden?

“I’m not drinking.” You tell him.

“What can I get for you?” The bartender asks. You give him a smile, listing off the drinks that everyone agreed on. Finnick doesn’t move, patiently waiting. The bartender leaves, but you know that he’ll be back around.

“You should be at the apartment.” Finnick says, there’s a slight frown on his face.

“Doing what?” You ask, face twisting, “Waiting for the tributes to be done? Why aren’t you there?”

He doesn’t get the chance to answer, you’re being interrupted. The bartender tells you that a waitress will come around to the back room to give you and the others your drinks. After that, you know for sure that he won’t be coming back.

One last time, you look at Finnick, “Coming or not?”

Finnick watches your face, pressing his lips together for a while, and then says: “Not.”

“I’ll see you later, then.” You say.

His arm drops, allowing you to go. You give him and the crowd one last glance, suddenly feeling weirded out that they’ve watched you the entire time. You get a couple of steps in to leave, and then stop. He said that he didn’t have anything to do today, didn’t he? Or did you only ask for after the interviews?

You turn slightly to see that Finnick hasn’t stopped staring yet. There’s a look on his face that you can’t shake. A secret message? Wordlessly, you find yourself extending your hand for him to take. This seems to be what he wants, face relaxing and fingers gliding against your palm. You squeeze his hand, pulling him along. He needed an escape, that’s why he approached you.

You bring him around to the back, free hand reaching for the doorknob when the door opens. Gloss is at the door, laughing at something the others must’ve said. He gives you a bright smile, “Hey guys.” and moves on without really acknowledging Finnick.

“Heading to the bathroom?” You ask.

“Yeah, I’ll be back in a minute!” He says, and then disappears.

You bring Finnick inside, he gently closes the door behind him. Now that he’s safe in here, you feel comfortable enough to let go of his hand. The other three victors in here are already leaned forward, making comments about what’s happening on the screen.

“Hey, Finnick.” Cashmere says, giving him a quick look, “You’re gonna have to sit on someone’s lap.”

“Gloss.” You and Enobaria say together, immediately laughing afterwards. Even Wade cracks up, rubbing his face slightly.

“I think I’ll pass.” Finnick says, you take a seat in your original spot, and then pat the arm of the couch, “Or you could try and squeeze between me and Gloss.”

He goes ahead and takes the arm of the chair. Gloss comes back a few minutes later with the waitress. She serves the drinks, Gloss pays for it all, and then you’re free to drink and watch the Capitol tv until you want to go.

It turns out that the drinks all taste different, with Enobaria’s tasting sweet with the aftertaste being sour. She ends up liking it enough to keep drinking. Cashmere and Gloss are obsessed with the fact that theirs tastes like cotton candy and french vanilla. The fruit that’s floating in their drinks are miracle berries, which turns anything sour into something sweet and sugary. Wade thinks his tastes like peppermint and chocolate.

You pick up yours, the Traitor, “This is going to be horrible.”

“You don’t know that.” Cashmere says, but even she looks apprehensive.

“Thought you said you weren’t going to drink.” Finnick says, you give him a look and hold up the glass for him to take, “This isn’t what I meant.”

“Too late, you dug your grave.” Enobaria sips on hers, already used to the sour taste.

Finnick sighs and takes a gulp of it. Then, his face twists and he holds out the cup as if there’s something wrong with it. You raise your eyebrows, “What’s the matter?”

“It tastes like saltwater.” Finnick says, and even smells it to make sure.

“Bullshit.” You take a sip of it, and find out he’s right. The salt aspect isn’t all that overpowering, thankfully. But it does taste like water, “Huh.”

You pull out the sour gummy palm tree, taking a bite out of it to find that it’s practically flavorless too. You’d bet all of your money that people tend to mistake the drink for water and that’s how they end up hammered. You smell it too, expecting it to have at least some aroma, but it’s bland. You set it on the coffee table.

“I think that one sip for each of us is enough.” you laugh, Finnick does too.

“It’s probably a painless way to get drunk.” Cashmere says, leaning forward, “Can I?”

“It’ll be you who gets alcohol poisoning.” you motion.

The drink gets passed around, with everyone being surprised that you two weren’t lying about it. By the time it’s back on the table, it’s almost gone. Cashmere shares her drink with you, but you’re very light when it comes to sips. Not because you’re afraid of ending up making a fool of yourself, but because the sugary aspect of the drink is making your teeth and the back of your throat hurt.

While playing games with each other, mostly trying to get to know Finnick more since they don’t know that much about him, you all keep track of the time. The atmosphere inside of the room easily lightens up, Finnick relaxes enough to constantly have a smile on his face. Your mentor friends are charismatic enough to keep a conversation going and to keep it from getting tense.

Even Wade seems to open up too, but you’re fairly sure that it’s his drink that’s making him do it. Either way, you all end up in stitches, red-faced and wiping tears from your eyes. At least you know that Finnick isn’t mad after last night.

“I’ve finished my drink.” Cashmere says, pushing her glass onto the table, “It might be time to go.”

Finnick glances at the clock, you think it’s about thirty minutes back to the Tribute Center, “Yeah, guess so.” 

You yawn, stretching your arms. It feels good to stand from the couch after sitting for so long. The others place their glasses in the middle of the table to make it easy for clean up. You dust your clothes off, pick up the door card that’ll say the room is dirty.

“So, was the matching outfits intentional?” Wade asks, leaning against the wall while you wait for the others to be ready.

“Actually no, we’re just psychic.” you give him a slight smile.

“Right.” he rolls his eyes, it’s quiet between you two for a moment as you watch Gloss try and fuck up Cashmere’s dress. She settles for punching him in the middle of his chest, “I’d like to apologize for what I said the other day.”

You look back at Wade, “Just be careful next time. You’re lucky it was me, otherwise you probably would’ve had your shit rocked by some other mentor. They’ve got pent up frustration, and they’d love to have a justified reaction like mine.”

The others start coming your way, you open the door and slip the door card on the outside handle so that a waitress can see that the room needs to be cleaned before it’s used again. You find Finnick towards the back, but end up pulling him to the middle after Enobaria and Wade start to lead you guys out.

You wrap your arm around his, “Let me repeat what I asked last night,” you look at him, “Are you busy tonight?”

His face falls slightly, “I’m not supposed to be.”

“And going to a restaurant might change that.”

“Going out in general, but if we can find a place like this one--with a closed door and a group then it’s less likely.” he frowns, and bites his cheek, looking away.

“Are you going to get in trouble for today?” you ask, he shakes his head.

Outside on the street, you can see that things are beginning to get busy. You don’t let go of Finnick, just in case something does happen. It’s a good thing that you’re with others, though, because again, they easily lighten the mood and have you guys giving soft smiles and some comments if it’s really needed.

You all have to split up in the lobby. You give gentle hugs and wish them good luck with their tribute’s interviews. Gloss and Finnick have their own kinda moment, which you quietly joke with Cashmere and Enobaria about.

“You’re lucky that Gloss doesn’t have a crush on you, otherwise he would have challenged Finnick for the alpha male status.” Cashmere says a little too loudly, which earns a nasty glare from him. Cashmere initially suppresses her laughter, but you crack up and it’s all over.

You and Finnick take the elevator up, deciding not to change what you’re wearing and just be matching for one night for nostalgia’s sake. You make it back just in time, with Elysia coming out of the apartment, face lighting up when she sees the two of you. She quickly readjusts some stuff on the two of you, but stands off to the side in the end to wait.

Marsh comes out with his team first, dressed in navy blue and black. He gives you guys a bright smile, and then laughs slightly, “You guys twinning on purpose, or--?” He trails off slightly, but it only lasts a second before he’s laughing, covering his mouth. You and Finnick must’ve had the same reaction.

Annie comes out a couple of minutes later, wearing a seashell pink dress. The bottom of it is layered so that it resembles the inside of a shell, with spiked shoes and pearls wherever the prep team could fit them. She shines in the light, and the red on her cheeks is to exaggerate blush.

“Absolutely stunning!” Elysia starts, which triggers the other prep team to follow in her suit. You give an approving nod to Laurel, who gives you a slight smirk.

“You two matching on purpose?” 

“For fuck’s sake--” Finnick breathes out a laugh, punching the elevator button.

“I think there’s time to change.” Laurel says.

“We’re good, thanks.” you shake your head, heading inside of the elevator.

One by one, everyone crowds in. Five prep team members, Laurel and Pleurisy, Elysia, you and Finnick, and Annie and Marsh in front. Elysia presses the button to bring you all down to the base floor. All the tributes are already lined up against the wall, dressed in their own fancy ways.

You stop the tributes a little bit out of the elevator, “Look at me.” they do, Finnick stops beside you, “You’re amazing, your act is unique, you’re going to blow away the competition. There’s no doubt about it, so don’t even worry. If you two get nervous, we’re all in the crowd. Find your favorite and talk to them like they’re your best friend. Got it?”

They both nod, and you give them a smile, straightening up. Finnick speaks next; “Just remember that you’ve already shown them you’re good at fighting. Now it’s time to show them that you’ve got a winning personality, and you do.”

“Take deep breaths, guys. You’ll do fantastic.”

Sitting in the crowd with the rest of the Capitol is always a weird feeling. You cross your legs and lace your fingers together while you wait for the room to fill. They’re always going to be nervous, it’s just what they do with it that matters the most. 

“Do you guys know any restaurants that’ll have closed doors?” Finnick asks, leaning over.

You give him a look, “Finnick, we’re victors. All you have to do is whisper it and they’ll get us a private room. You have nothing to worry about, I promise.”

He smiles, “As long as you promise.”

The tributes come onto stage, allowing everyone to get their first looks at the competition. Some tributes are dressed more expensively, others are loose and laid back. Annie and Marsh are pretty much the standard when it comes to dressing up for the interviews. They represent their district in some aspect while also looking like themselves.

Caesar starts off with a few jokes to get the crowd in their regular mood, and then he’s introducing the girl from District One. You silently pick apart their personalities, she’s sexy and dangerous, and the boy isn’t as smooth when it comes to instincts. He nearly trips over a small crack in the stage, it’s a dead giveaway why he scored so low.

The girl from Two is bright, with big smiles and animated talking. She seems genuinely interested in conversation, you’d like to say that she’s going for a nice aspect, which will totally flip inside of the arena. The boy is brooding and quiet, hardly opening up at all. He’s absolutely huge too, bigger than Finnick for sure.

District Three isn’t all that important, they’re geeky, shy and stutter a lot when they try and answer. When Annie is introduced, she gives a cute smile and stops next to Caesar, and from the very beginning of her interview to the very end, she’s got the Capitol absolutely wrapped around her finger. So much so that the tributes behind her are rolling their eyes, fed up with it. At the very end, she curtsies and gracefully takes her seat, crossing her legs and leaning back smugly.

Marsh walks up with a wave and a grin. His first few jokes don’t land properly, but it doesn’t discourage him. His eyes find you and Finnick, you give him an encouraging smile. After that, he seems to find his footing, eyes occasionally coming back to you two if he needs reassurance. Once again, he’s swept the entire audience away, they want more when his time is up.

When he sits down next to Annie, he holds his fist out, and she bumps hers against his.

The end of the interviews come around quickly, and since neither of them have allies, they don’t have a reason to mull around the floor talking to others. You give Cashmere and them a wave before the elevator closes, and then suddenly everyone’s buzzing all at once over your tributes.

Annie immediately flushes red, Marsh taking all the compliments like a champ. There’s assurance that they’ll be remembered for a while because of their acts, and how there’s absolutely no way that they didn’t gain traction. Tonight, the attention is probably placed on them and their new perspective on interviews.

Dinner is loud and lively. Tonight’s meals are delicious and filling, but you and Finnick eat scarcely because you’ll be eating out with Enobaria and the rest of them in an hour or so. The avoxes bring out a giant three tier cake modeled around District Four. When Elysia takes the first slice, candy pearls fall out of cake, all varying colors. You guys go ahead and watch the interviews one last time, pointing out details you hadn’t noticed before and cracking up at Marsh all over again. Needless to say, they’re pretty proud of what they’ve done today.

Annie and Marsh part with whatever tokens they want inside of the arena. Laurel, Pleurisy and the prep teams hug them goodbye. Although, the stylists will be the only people seeing them tomorrow. You, Finnick and Elysia are left with the tributes, and you have a faint sense of deja vu. You’ve been here plenty of times before, after interviews with two tributes that you’re too fond of.

But unlike before, these two are special pearls. 

Elysia is the next to say goodbye, eyes a little watery like they are every year. She’s not allowed to wish them good luck, or say anything nice. She mutters out the insult that she’s required to say, and then disappears into the apartment. 

It’s up to you and Finnick to finish off strong.

“We’re on your side.” you tell them, “We’re always working behind the scenes to pull strings. Look for hidden meanings in things.” you fidget with the engagement ring, “You can always change your mind when it comes to allies. The careers offered you a place the other day, but we turned them down. You can use that to your advantage, if needed.”

“If you find yourself in sticky situations, act on your instincts and worry about the repercussions later.” Finnick says, “Sometimes it’s better that way, but not all the time. If you’re unsure of anything, it won’t hurt you to change. Whether that be eating, drinking, finding a place to stay--any of that. If a situation feels weird, then it is weird.”

“Find water first.” you say, opening your arms. Annie’s the first to take the hug, you squeeze her shoulders tightly, “Remember, these are your games. You decide the outcome here.”

You hug Marsh too, “Go to bed, order herbal tea if you have trouble falling asleep. You’ll need every wink you can get.”

“Thank you for everything.” Annie says.

“Thank you.” Marsh echos.

You give them a smile, “Thank me when you come back.”

“Yes ma’am.” Marsh jokes, him and Annie go up the stairs and to their rooms.

You let out a deep breath of air, pressing the heel of your hand to your head, “There was so much more to say.”

“It’s okay, (Y/n). You said so yourself, they’re smart.” Finnick elbows you slightly.

“I know.” you calm yourself slightly, and then stand up straight, “Alright, let’s go before they think we’ve ditched them.”

“Can’t wait to have a second dinner.” Finnick snorts.

“Get ready to pop some buttons.” you grin cheekily, “And maybe make a fool of yourself.”


	5. Chapter 5

Even though the Hunger Games doesn’t start until ten, you’re in the betting room at nine. You’re not the first and only mentor to come down bright and early, there’s plenty of others who are already making their way around the room. Shaking hands, exchanging compliments and holding friendly conversation.

You’re not exactly the same way, as you stand off to the side, gnawing on your thumb’s nail. You’ve watched Annie and Marsh’s odds bob up and down plenty of times already, as the gamemakers try to decide where they belong last minute. So far, Annie and Marsh are back to back in numbers, with Marsh being on top.

“You’re stressed.”

Gloss is staring up at the betting board when you look over at him. He’s got his arms crossed, serious and straight-faced. In the past, he would be some type of excited because of their undeniably fantastic tributes. This year is different, as you’ve already discovered many times. His male tribute scored lower than usual, and the girl is higher by one single point.

It’s normal for the careers to score from anywhere between eight and ten, but that doesn’t mean they want an eight. They want nines and tens, because it shows proficiency and dangerousness. Plus, it’s normally District Four who’s scoring eights and whatnot. A good example of that is when Finnick scored the number when he was fourteen.

Today’s seriousness doesn’t reflect the attitude that was being presented last night. Last night was much livelier, a laughing group of mentors on the streets of the Capitol. Of course, as Finnick requested, you all stayed inside and in private rooms for most of the time, but eventually he decided that he wanted to experience the festival the way you guys normally do.

Which is practically chaos, as Gloss and Enobaria feed into each other’s bad thoughts and drag you around the city doing whatever they want. Trying on regular Capitol wear, buying replica crowns that Snow places on the brows of victors. They try different drinks and foods, all a hundred different flavors, some sweet, others sour, sometimes spicy.

The Capitol is a playground to them, and it’s fun to watch them break rules and create their own. Playing games on the sidewalk to see who will chug the next cherry vodka, who will lose a shirt or a sock or a piece of expensive jewelry down a storm drain. The night of the interviews is the only night where you all get to be your true selves.

Even Finnick felt comfortable enough to join in on your antics. It’s always a night to remember, you’re sure that he’ll be using it to tell stories in the future. The year where you cornered Finnick to helping you, and how he saw that you weren’t always who you pretended to be. It’s easy to be professional when you don’t like someone, but it’s harder to contain yourself when you’re surrounded by people who understand what you’re going through.

Of course, it’s only one night. If your tributes die, you get sent home, so you never have the chance to congratulate and celebrate with your friends after they bring home another tribute. You can always say your peace the next year, but by then they’re over it, and they’re ready for another victor.

“So are you.” you playfully punch his bicep, “Look at you, you never cross your arms.”

He gives you a smile, “Whatever, it’s not that much of a giveaway.”

“You’re right, it was definitely your face. You never scowl.” You look at the board again to see that all the numbers seem to be locked, “Careful, you’ll end up with wrinkles. After that, people will really begin to realize that you’re older than Cashmere.”

The board is a little confusing at first to get used to, but after years of looking at it, you’ve grown accustomed to it. At the top reads ‘MORNING LINE ODDS’, and below is a row readied for how many days, hours, minutes and seconds the tributes have been inside of the arena. Which is none at the moment, so instead they have a countdown going on. Fifty-four minutes. Less than an hour.

Below it are more rows and information about the tributes. The left states their district, and then it splits into two. The Capitol doesn’t care about names anymore, just the important parts. Their heights, weights, ages, betting odds and faces are displayed for everyone to see.

For Gloss and Cashmeres tributes, they’re both doing fairly good on odds. The girl has a predicted 5-1 chance of winning, and the boy has a 7-1. In the past, the roles have been reversed, the boys always show a brute strength during their private training so it’s hard not to score like that. Enobaria and Wades tributes are better, even with the repeating numbers. The girl has a 5-1 too, but the boy holds a 3-1 because of his score.

The gamemakers are used to your tributes’ scores teetering on the edge of very good and mediocre, which normally earns them a 9-1 or lower. However, since your tributes have shown promise through personality and matching high numbers, you’re staring at a 7-1 for Marsh and a 8-1 for Annie. It’s not perfect, but it’s better than the past scores.

You think that the lowest you’ve seen for District Four is a 20-1. That was a particularly horrible year, and since then you’ve learned to stop the problem before it gets too bad to be fixed. Maybe it’s attitude, maybe it’s not caring for training, you’re there with dead eyes and mean words to put them back in their place. They like to self-sabotage, not a good thing to do when you’re going into the Hunger Games.

On one hand, you’re thankful for the morning line odds, because it gets the betters a sense of direction of which tributes they should sponsor and keep an eye on. But sometimes it seems futile when the sponsors will do whatever they want, or go for the more obvious and favorable tributes--cough cough, Districts One and Two. You can never go wrong betting on the districts that practically get a winner every year.

“Haha.” Gloss says in regards to your age comment, “Where’s Finnick?”

You shrug, “Couldn’t find him at all this morning.”

It’s true, you searched the entire apartment three times before leaving. The living room, the kitchen, the balcony, your bedroom, his bedroom, even in the hallway and stairwell. There wasn’t a single trace of Finnick anywhere, it didn’t even look like he spent the night in his room, but you definitely remember him going in there last night.

Whatever, you’re not all that upset. It’s the first day, and even if there’s a lot that happens on the first day, sponsorships aren’t one of them. The first day relies on the tributes to get used to their surroundings and figure things out for themselves. The second day is when mentors and sponsors begin to collaborate.

Doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t be down here anyway. It’s nice to make friends while you can. You’ll just have to talk to Finnick later about him helping you down here. The whole reason why you’ve called on him for help this year is because of the betting room. An extra pair of eyes, ears and hands helps out, it goes a long ass way. Two people mingling is better than one. You can pull more sponsors together.

You glance at Gloss, “Where’s Cashmere and the others?”

“Wade’s here,” Gloss turns, thumb jabbing in the direction. He’s got the spot perfectly right, you’re able to see that Wade is surrounded by Capitol people, all laughing and joking around, “Cashmere and Enobaria will be down here later. They’re sleeping in, I think.”

“Well, after last night…” you trail off with a small smile, and Gloss snorts.

It’s quiet between you two as you watch the time tick down. Thirty minutes left, the tributes are close or in the catacombs at this point. Judging by the small glimpse the gamemakers gave this year, you think that the arena’s going to be sunny. They’re probably dressed in regular clothing, stuff that won’t make the tributes too hot but won’t allow them to get cold easily.

Honestly, at this point, you’re tired of the build up. 

“At least your tributes’ odds are doing well this year.”

“Tell me about it. But it came at a price, since yours fucked up during training.” you run a hand through your hair, getting annoyed when it falls back in your face.

“There’s always room for redemption.”

Redemption, what a pointless thing to bank on, “Right.”

You’d tell him it’s good to have hope, but when has hope ever helped you? It’s always a letdown. And out of all tributes that are about to enter the arena, the careers aren’t the ones that need hope. It’s everyone else.

More silence, you mindlessly watch the time tick down. Thirty minutes, twenty, fifteen, ten. Everyone starts getting antsy around five, you and Gloss stand behind the rows of chairs that begin to fill with citizens. Wade comes around and joins the two of you, talking about what he discovered during conversation.

He was going after their opinions on the tributes. And while they have sung good praise of their tributes, as usual, they also couldn’t stop bringing up Marsh in particular. There were constant comments on how they had wished that he would’ve gotten more time on stage. It was new to them, and they liked the new approach. 

You figure that other mentors will start telling their tributes to follow in Marsh’s footsteps, and after that the comedy skit will be ruined and you’ll have to find something else that’ll catch attention. At this point, everything possible has been found and exploited until it got old. 

Twenty seconds until it hits a minute, which is when they’ll raise the tributes. The games don’t officially start until that minute is over. The clock will flip, and then it’ll start from the bottom up. You clench your teeth, spinning your ring around your finger over and over. Annie and Marsh are in the tubes, submerged in darkness, you can feel it yourself, the stomach lurching and the dread and regret. It’s too late now, they have to fall through on what they’ve built so far.

They’ve got this. They’ve got this. They’ve got this.

The clock hits a minute and five seconds, you can begin to see the tops of tributes heads. You lean forward slightly, eyes searching for Annie and Marsh, and find them easily. They’re close together, maybe two tributes between them, which is good news. They can see each other and decide what they want to do. You hope they discussed some sort of plan at some point regarding how they want to start their games off.

The cornucopia this year is silver and placed in the middle of a field of flowers. The grass is tall too, but thin enough to see where the gamemakers have placed the goodies outside of the cornucopia this year. As the camera pans around the tributes, you’re able to catch glimpses of the arena.

A field of flowers, hills that seem to stretch forever and offer little to no protection. In the distance is… a village? Others must see it too, because whispers break out, predictions on which tributes will immediately run for it. It’s an obvious place to go, Annie and Marsh won’t head there first. They’ll go for a better place.

However, it’s not inevitable, it’ll probably be the first place where the careers will go to get as many people out as possible. For a quick and scary moment, you think that this will be a fast Hunger Games. Whatever happens, just let one of your tributes last until the end.

One last shot before the sixty seconds is over, and it feels like you’ve been stabbed in the heart. 

The dam that they showed--the preview--they must’ve edited it or something with how they made it look so small and not at all threatening. You thought it was holding back a small river, especially with the stream of water that was coming from it. But this--this is not for a river. This is for a fucking lake.

“Oh my fucking god.” you lace your fingers, placing your hands on the back of your head.

“Wow.” Gloss utters, “Yeah that isn’t at all what they showed us.”

From what you can tell, the tributes are supposed to be far away from the dam, a couple miles at least. But it’s still big enough to see through the trees, and tall enough to block some of the sky. Actually, it reminds you of the cliffs in your games. The cliffs were a two day walk from the cornucopia, and yet you could see them over the tops of the trees.

No one in their right mind would head towards the dam, especially with the chance that it would break. It’s just not common sense, and Annie and Marsh have shown promise when it comes to thinking logically. Which means that they would have to head the other way… towards the village.

They’re fucked. Everyone in that arena is set up for failure. You give it a couple of days, maybe a week and a half at most. No one in their right mind is going to want to stay next to the dam, but on the other hand they won’t want to get killed. And you can hide near the dam at the beginning of the games, but eventually if you want to head towards the village and clear hills, people will see you coming from a mile away.

You clench your fists, gritting your teeth more as your nails dig into the skin on your palms. 

Out of all the arena’s that you’ve seen, this is by far the worst. It’s a trap, there’s no choice but to fall victim to it.

“Well, there goes literally everything.” Wade lets out a laugh.

“The others should be down here.” Gloss says.

He’s referring to Enobaria, Cashmere and Finnick, and he’s completely right. They won’t know what’s happening or the situation until later. By then, it’ll be too late. The bloodbath always costs around seven to ten lives, and if they all scatter towards the village, you think at the end of the day, half the competition will be gone.

The countdown has reached five, you watch as Annie and Marsh prepare to run into the cornucopia. It isn’t a bad choice, they’re good fighters. As long as they don’t go too far in, maybe grab the supplies that are only a few feet away from the mouth, they’ll be golden. You hope they realize this.

The gong sounds.

It’s only been a couple of seconds, and a handful of tributes are already heading towards the village. Others dare to run towards the dam, but they’re all apprehensive and continue to steal longing looks at the cornucopia and beyond that. They’re not the focus of the cameras, though.

The bloodbath is horrible as usual. Annie and Marsh are next to each other, stealing things out of the grass, shoving them into an empty backpack. Sheets of plastic, bread, firestarters, rope, water jugs. You watch with furrowed eyebrows, trying to keep track of the careers and the deaths.

On the side of the screen is a list, one at a time names and districts appear. The girl from Six, the boy from Eight, the girl from Eleven, the boy from Twelve. Two minutes in and four are already dead. Annie and Marsh head towards the cornucopia quickly, a plan already in mind.

Marsh slips inside of the cornucopia, making your heartbeat in your ears, body filling with adrenaline. Stupid move, going inside traps you there. Not even in your games did you go inside all the way. He’s gone for ten seconds, twenty. Annie doesn’t appear to be worried at first, but it changes when a career sets their eyes on her.

The boy from One.

“Oh, here we go.” you cross one arm over your chest, the other covering your mouth.

Annie ditches the backpack, throwing it against the cornucopia to keep it clear of her path. Out of nowhere, she pulls out a knife, spinning it between her fingers to make sure that the boy knows she has it. Her body curls in forward, chin dropping downwards.

She would look threatening, as if she has a chance at winning this fight if it weren’t for the short blade that the boy has. He comes towards her, a smile hinting at the corners of his lips. He swings, she dodges easily and advances forward. Annie isn’t a runner, especially not when she has a plan. 

This is life or death, Annie. This isn’t practice anymore. This is for real.

He swings again, she moves out of the way and comes closer, a little out of range. The boy is becoming frustrated, and his swings begin to cut close. Annie side steps, you can see the blade cut through her shirt, when the boy holds his blade up, you can see a glint of blood. Annie doesn’t even look phased.

Where the hell is Marsh? You look at the corner of the screen, reading over the new list of deaths. The boy from Eleven, the girl from Twelve, the girl from Ten. Seven dead, the bloodbath is practically over, Annie and Marsh need to get out of there now.

He swings again, cutting Annie’s upper left arm. She barely acknowledges it, when the gamemakers change camera angles, you can finally see her face. All those times you’ve watched her fight the other kids at the boarding school, she’d be able to sweep most of the kids with her eyes closed. On the days you and Anchor permitted actual harm, she became more serious about fighting.

Annie shifted in those moments. Her eyes dead, locking on the target in front of her. She always has a plan, always ready to move and bait the person in. She’ll tense in sticky situations, but always find her way out of it. She became unlikable when fighting others because of this. Always said that it was an unfair fight. 

And she’s about to bring the boy from One down.

The boy swings one more time, Annie moves out of the way in time for him to miss. Not a second later, she’s launching towards him, the knife perfectly aimed for his stomach. He’s quick to try and slash at her, so she has to drop the knife in the grass and grab his wrist instead, falling on top of him.

Annie slams her knee into the boy's left wrist, and uses both of her hands to force the sword in the other hand, down towards his throat. His face turns an angry shade of red, eyebrows forced so close that there’s a deep crease between them. Annie’s face is determined, the kind and polite girl that you saw yesterday evening is nowhere to be seen.

It’s a struggle between them, Annie’s got a tight grip around his wrist, knuckles turning white. She grits her teeth, lip curling, lets up for a moment on the arm, only to go crashing back down. The boys’ locked arm breaks, and the sword slides through his throat. Red, thick blood comes out of his throat, painting his tan skin and the silver blade.

Annie lets out a sound, pulls out the sword, and slams it into his forehead. On the side of the screen, the boy from One appears. You let out a breath, watching as Annie gathers her things. It’s right on time for Marsh to come fighting out, the girl from One trying to stop him. His face is twisted like he’s in pain, but it’s just how he focuses too.

If they knock out District One, Gloss and Cashmere go home. It’s over, and all you have to worry about is the District Two tributes. For the first time in a very long time, District One won’t survive past the first day. 

It doesn’t work out like that, Marsh sends a harsh kick to her leg and she crumples. He and Annie regroup, and the two of them take off running towards the dam, the backpack bouncing on Annie’s back, Marsh tightly holding onto his favorite weapon. Annie now has the short blade to use.

“Okay.” you breathe, because it could be worse. 

The village is going to be a slaughter, so you don’t blame them for running towards the dam. They just need to find another place to stay soon, and hope that the careers don’t come towards them for revenge.

“Congrats.” Gloss has got a smile on his face, clapping a hand on your shoulder.

“Thanks, I guess. One more tribute and you get sent home.” you raise your eyebrows at him.

He rolls his eyes, “They’ll have to try really hard to get that to happen.”

“Anything is possible!” you cheer.

The bloodbath lasted about twenty minutes, even if it didn’t feel like it. The main career group has three left; two girls and one boy. Annie and Marsh are still very much alive, taking camp by the dam. The total bloodbath deaths is eight. Districts Eleven and Twelve are gone; Parry, Seeder and Haymitch are going home.

They’re nowhere to be seen, which you can’t really blame them for. Haymitch is the only victor in his district, and Parry won ten years ago so he replaced Chaff when it comes to mentoring. After a long streak of losing, you’re sure that you’d find yourself holed up in the apartment too. Why bother showing up in the betting room if you know your tributes won’t make it past the first day?

Although, District Eleven typically has their tributes last a while longer. But you guess it’s different this year since both of their tributes ran into the cornucopia on the assumption that they’d make it out alive. At this point, no tributes make it out alive unless they’re very good at fighting or they can slip between fingers.

You take a look at the betting board to see that the dead tributes are greyed out since they’re impossible to bet on. Everyone else who’s still alive have had their odds increase slightly. Now that the gamemakers have seen survival and fighting skills come alive, they can determine how the rest of the games are going to go much better.

The girl from One has increased to a 4-1, the other two careers stay the same. Annie has gone from an 8-1 to a 6-1, Marsh stays the same. Killing the career boy has done her good. Your two tributes will have sponsors around the corner in no time. You think that Finnick will be excited to hear this.

On screen, the careers gather what they need and air out of the cornucopia, heading towards the village, as predicted. For a second, there’s a disagreement, as the girl from One wants to head after Annie and Marsh to take care of them before they become a serious problem, but the other two vote against her, so she’s stuck going towards the village.

Annie and Marsh aren’t the only two who went towards the dam, there’s about three to four others who are there too. Still, the majority went straight for the village, which could very well be because it’ll give them cover from any of the elements, but you can’t imagine that there’s any sort of water source. The gamemakers like to keep the sources to a minimum and in one spot to make sure that the tributes come across each other on refills.

With the bloodbath being over, you can breathe. You, Gloss and Wade take a seat on a couch nearby, with you and Gloss being pressed against the arms, and Wade being sat in the middle. You’d say that it’s crowded, Gloss and Wade aren’t the smallest guys to exist, but there’s still enough breathing room between all of you.

You tap your fingers against the arm of the chair, watching as the cameras all split into groups. Annie and Marsh being one, still running into the woods to put as much distance between them and the cornucopia as possible. The second team of tributes being District Seven, as they’re working together this year, heading towards the left, away from the stream of water that Annie and Marsh are unintentionally going to come across.

The other two tributes by the dam are the girl from Eight and the boy from Five, scattered in their own special way, but not shown individually on screen. They’re not as important, it looks like the gamemakers are focusing on alliances at the moment. Next up are the careers, taking their time with making their way down and over the grassy hills. They’re digging through their backpacks and laughing about something.

There’s no alliance in the village at all. After a few more seconds of glimpses of the alliance tributes, it’s switched to individual. From what you’re able to see, the village is pretty big. At least six tributes are scattered inside of houses or making their way as deep inside as possible. As far as the forest goes, two people are wandering around. There’s only one tribute that you can’t decide where they are because of the way she’s cleverly placed herself.

The bloodbath canons begin to go off now, there’s a series of different reactions. Eight deaths in the bloodbath isn’t even that uncommon, the most you’ve probably seen before is twelve. Hell, in your games you think that there were nine total. Typically, the tributes have enough common sense to save themselves right off the bat.

“What do you think the dam’s about?” Gloss suddenly asks.

Your eyes slowly land on him to see that he’s waiting on you and Wade. Wade shrugs his shoulders, not knowing what to say. They don’t know? How can they not know? You thought that the dam was pretty straight forward. Maybe they weren’t standing in front of the tv close enough to see the cracks.

A part of you wants to tell them what your predictions are, but you bite your tongue and shrug too. In the past, mentors have been able to send secret messages to tributes. It happened in your games, it’s happened in others, and you’ve even sent a couple when it was direly needed. So telling them could backfire in your face.

Even if you’re friends with them, sometimes you can’t trust to give others certain information. It’s so risky, knowing that the other mentor can easily pass off the information. Especially during the initial week inside of the Capitol. The tributes are at your fingertips.

It’s why you resort to being mysterious most of the time. While your mentor friends have nothing to hide because they put their plans out in the open from the start—because you all know that it’s no secret that the careers are powerhouses. You rely on the element of surprise to get you through literally everything.

The mentors can’t tell their tributes what your opinion is if you don’t give one. They can’t tell them that you’re sure your tributes are absolutely deadly and pose one of the biggest threats in the arena this year. They have to rely on past experiences to make predictions, but even then, sometimes districts manage to pull surprises out of nowhere.

The clock hits the first hour mark, by then the careers have made it to the village. Already beginning to weave their way in and out of houses. They’re not exactly quiet, so if a tribute hears them coming, they’ll easily be able to hide before the career gets to them.

Well, that’s what you think. However, every time a tribute is shown individually, you see that there’s nothing to hide behind. There’s no doors, and if there are, they’re broken or falling apart from years with no use. It’s like a terrifying game of hide and seek, but there’s hardly hiding. It’s a game of skill and luck now. 

Luck that you won’t get found or your house won’t get chosen. That the career will come just close enough but turn their back at the last second when they decide that a place is clear. But it’s skill, testing the careers senses. Seeing if they properly know how to clear an area completely of tributes.

Just like how luck wasn’t on the side of these tributes when their names got chosen, it’s not on their side when it comes to hiding in plain sight, either. One by one, they’re all found.

The first one is the girl from Five, pressed tightly against the wall, holding her breath with tears slowly coming to her eyes. You can practically hear her chanting in her head, “Please don’t find me, please don’t fine me—“

The girl from One rounds the corner, without a single hesitation, she shoves the sword through the other girls’ stomach before the girl can defend herself. The sword pins the girl to the wall, blood spilling out of her stomach. Five has her mouth open in shock, eyes locked on the weapon, fingers fumbling to touch it.

One looks pleased, a smile creeping onto her face. For a moment, you can see Cashmere in her. The blonde hair, the green eyes, they all look the same in District One. All the same form of deadly, and they pull sponsors without even having to try because of their good looks. But everything comes at a price, and Cashmere was no exception.

Five doesn’t have a chance to plead, One pulls out her knife and finishes the job. A canon goes off, another teenager greyed out on the betting board. Nine dead. A sick feeling in your stomach tells you that this is going to be another bloodbath.

The boys work together, taking out the bigger houses since the girl wanted to go it alone. They’ll clear one, making sure to make it known, but stick inside of the house for a second to wait to see if they can hear movement. When they’re absolutely sure there’s none, they move on.

This plan doesn’t work initially, they get passed at least three houses before they hear a noise. Had the boy just waited a couple of seconds more, they wouldn’t have been able to hear his footsteps as he creeped down the loud stairs, giving away his position.

With the Ten boy dead, the District Ten mentors are going home. Which you’re sure is a bummer for them, knowing that they’ve been doing pretty good lately when it comes to victors. They’ve had two in the past ten years, which is a good improvement from the gap that they had before.

In the next house that the boys come across is a girl, the gamemakers give no indication on district. And you’re not sure that it matters because she’s dead within the first minute they search the house. The hiding spot wasn’t that bad, but when there’s two searching, more spots are bound to be discovered. 

District Three girl gets greyed out on the board. There’s three people still hiding inside of the village, the boys from Nine, Three and Six. All in different places, and the only one that seems to be the furthest is Six, and you can take a pretty big guess as to why.

His district is power. They’re the main producer for it for everyone, and it wouldn’t be possible if it weren’t for the gigantic dam that they have. It’s hydroelectricity, the water passes through the dam, turns some gears and it fuels the Capitol and a portion of the other districts. It makes sense that he would be the one that would try and get away as far as possible. 

It means that he knows something that the rest of them don’t. However, you have that much figured out. The dam is the danger here, but he must know the mechanics behind it. Why it’s going to fall apart, what event can set it off, how far it’s going to reach when it does. He’s so far away from the dam at this point, miles away from the cornucopia, and he still keeps moving.

It just means that the blast radius of the dam is going to wipe out a large berth of things. Trees, potentially the cornucopia, definitely the houses in the village. And that’s to name a few. There’s no telling what can be uprooted with the force of the water. You’re just curious how anyone will survive it.

Another tribute gets found, it’s the boy from Nine. The careers have regrouped now, all in different forms of bloody. You grit your teeth and try not to gag, remembering the smell of blood, and the feeling of the thickness on your skin. It’s not a pretty feeling, and you can’t shake it, not even all these years later.

The careers agree to stop looking for tributes and start for water instead. Which is a good sign for the two tributes left in the village--potentially three. But as for everyone else in the trees, it’s not as good. You’re sure that Annie and Marsh are far away enough from the stream of water that’s coming out of the dam at the moment, but there’s no way to tell.

Actually, it probably doesn’t even matter that they’re far away from the stream of water, considering that no one knows that it actually exists, except for the mentors. Unless someone went and opened their mouth and gave it away, which you wouldn’t be surprised about. You’re all a bunch of cheats and liars, at this point. There’s no use denying it.

The careers don’t even start to head towards the dam anyway, so that eliminates most of the worry. With the interest in them gone, it’s back to the remaining tributes inside of the arena. It’s been nearly three hours and already half of the competition is gone. When you said that it wouldn’t last more than a week and a half, you weren’t thinking that it would be because of this. You thought it would be the dam.

Everyone loves a good plot twist though, right? Right?

You get up from the couch to stretch your legs, figuring that the worst of the first day is over. It’s one in the afternoon, Annie and Marsh can clearly take care of themselves when it comes to fighting off other tributes. Their main worry at the moment is probably finding water and setting up camp somewhere.

If they were to just head right, towards the stream, they should come upon that shack uphill. It’s risky, staying that close to the dam but they don’t really have much of a choice unless they want to stay the night out in the open. At least with a shack they have shelter and they’re hidden. If someone comes upon it, they’ll have the upper hand.

“Alright, I think I might go back to the Four apartment to eat lunch. Don’t know if I’ll be down here later.” you say, looking at Wade and Gloss.

“And narrowly miss your two best friends?” Gloss asks.

“I have days to see them, I’m not really that worried. Plus, last night was enough to fuel me for the next decade. You’re lucky if I don’t start pretending I don’t know your four altogether.”

“Haha.” Gloss rolls his eyes, but gets to his feet.

He gives you a one-armed hug, you pat his back slightly. Wade isn’t much for physical contact in the first place, so he holds out his hand as a supplement. You slap it, looking at Gloss, “Sorry about your tribute.”

“He was a moron anyway.”

“I’ll see you later then--” you go to turn towards the door but find that you’re face to face with a Capitol woman, dressed in bright blue with accents of black. You have to take a step back so that you’re not breathing the same air as her, giving her a polite smile, “Hello.”

“Are you Annie’s mentor?” she asks.

Three hours in, and Annie’s already going to get a sponsor. It’s probably healing cream for the cuts she endured when fighting the One boy. You have to admit, if she’s completely healed, she’ll be able to move quicker and won’t have to worry about using medical stuff. The blades on the knives and swords are so sharp, especially when they haven’t been used before. Pick your toughest material and it could move through it like cloth.

Your eyes find Annie and Marsh on screen to see that they’re taking a break, going through the stuff in their backpack. Now would be a good time to do it before they get ahead of themselves. You give the Capitol woman a bigger smile, “Yes, are you interested in sponsoring?”

The whole process only takes a few minutes. You and her discuss what exactly she’s looking for, and what the ranges of the healing cream will have. It’s so extremely dirt cheap because it’s the beginning of the games, only three hours in. The longer the games go on, the more prices will be amped up. What could buy you an entire feast on the first day will only get you a loaf of bread later on, maybe not even that.

The woman lets you know that the main reason for deciding to go through with this is because of Annie’s manners on stage. That she can’t believe that Annie is only eighteen and acts like she’s been on this earth for much longer. You have to agree, Annie has her moments where she’s wiser than the rest of you. But it’s mainly because she’s been forced to grow up quicker, thanks to the boarding school.

When it comes to the note, you type in, “Right with you.”

It’s not the best when it comes to hinting at where to go, but you send it and watch it get approved. The first sponsor gift of the Seventieth Hunger Games, and it’s going to your tributes. One last time, you thank the woman and assure her that Annie is very grateful for her compassion.

Now you can’t leave just yet, and have to wait as it slowly comes down to them. You stand by Gloss and Wade, listening to the chiming of the gift. When it comes into earshot of Annie and Marsh, they immediately perk up, searching the trees. 

“Found it!” Annie calls, pointing it out while getting to her feet. The cuts don’t even seem to phase her all that much, so it’s partially a waste of money but at least they’ll be able to use it later on if the need arises.

Annie catches the silver gift in her hands, rejoining Marsh as she pops it open. You didn’t really give them any instructions on how to apply it, they’ll have common sense not to use the whole tube, you think. They read over the words to themselves in their head first, before Annie is smiling fondly.

“That’s very sweet.” Annie says, “(Y/n)’s encouraging us as always.”

No, that’s not it. You’re not worried about the misinterpretation, especially not after the knowing look they give each other. Annie folds the paper and places it in her breast pocket, not even reading it out loud for everyone to know. It’s their own choice, and it’s probably a good one at any rate.

Annie has Marsh apply the cream while she tries not to look like she’s in too much pain. You know that it’s not easy having people dig their fingers in your wounds. Fuck, you might have initially blacked out after that bear mutt attack, but you were still half awake. Every single time they went a little too deep or were a little too harsh, you were jolted awake. You’re fairly surprised that you still remember it. It was almost like a fever dream.

Annie and Marsh take a couple more minutes relaxing, but the audio cuts on their part to give the District Seven tributes a chance at the spotlight. It doesn’t mean that you’re not able to see your tributes, though. You’re able to watch them motion and flesh out a plan. It’s good to see that they get along so well, makes for a strong alliance.

Annie motions about heading towards the wall, Marsh’s face begins to harden up. Annie changes to pointing, jabs her thumb in the direction of the cornucopia. Marsh says something, you think you make out the word ‘water’. Annie then holds her arm out to the right, taps the pocket on her chest, and then it seems like they have a plan. They pack up, and head towards the right.

And with that, you go to leave because it’s finally your window. But Cashmere and Enobaria come through the door, bearing a basket and big smiles, “Good afternoon! How’s our tributes doing?”

“Is that food?” you ask, Cashmere hands over the basket, and when you look inside, there’s cold cut sandwiches and flavored bubble water. It really looks like you won’t be leaving here anytime soon.

You all pick your regular back table, that’s perfectly out of earshot of other mentors and Capitol citizens, but you’re still able to see the line odds and the screen with the tributes. They lay out the food, you nibble on your sandwich while Cashmere and Enobaria ask questions and Gloss and Wade give up information.

“Bloodbath knocked out eight tributes.” Wade says, playing with the bubbly water cap, “Which includes Eleven and Twelve.”

“Figures, they’re not very good fighters anyway.” Enobaria says, “Didn’t Eleven have the seventeen year-old girl?”

“She only scored a six so it’s not like she was anything special.” Cashmere has her eyes on Gloss, slowly squinting at him, “What are you hiding?”

“I’m not hiding anything.” Gloss makes a face and shrugs. There goes whatever cover he was trying to grasp at.

Cashmere stares at him for a second longer before turning around and looking at the line odds. It doesn’t take long to find, the boy is the first tribute on the left row. She doesn’t even have to look for it. The name is greyed out, of course, Cashmere turns back to Gloss.

“When did Colt die?” she asks.

“The bloodbath.” Gloss says, leaning his head against his hand now, “He went after Annie--(Y/n)’s tribute. He didn’t even stand a chance.”

Cashmere raises her eyebrows, and then looks at you, “Seriously? What happened?”

Conversation launches, you, Gloss and Wade do your best to tell them all the details. Starting from the bloodbath, who’s where in the arena, to the village. They’re not all that surprised to hear that their career pack got an additional four kills, the careers go hunting after the bloodbath to try and get as many as possible. But it’s a shock to know that half the tributes are gone.

After bloodbaths, careers get one--maybe two--kills. And it normally doesn’t happen immediately after the bloodbath, either. It’s sometime during the night because it’s easiest to spot the fires. Hardly ever is there a second slaughter immediately after the first. Because of this, you don’t think that they’re going to have a feast at the cornucopia this year. There won’t be enough tributes to make it worth it.

Annie and Marsh come across water, fill the jugs and put iodine to clean the water. They wander up a little further and find the shack. Just like that, they can call it a day since they’ve already got enough food to last them two days. All they have to do now is set up a plan to keep the food coming.

The careers come across basically a small clear pond. The last time you drank from a pond, you came down with Typhoid fever, really fun times. The Capitol was a bitch for making that dirty water clear to drink from, but the normally ideal water a fucking trick. You are so lucky that the Capitol had the medicine to make sure that the effects weren’t long-term. Otherwise, who knows what you’d be living with right now?

The betting room starts to clear out in the evening because it’s supper time for all of them. You stick around with the pack for a little while longer, remarking that you’re all surprised that Finnick didn’t show up at all, even with all the time he had. Once you’re sure that your tributes can survive the night, you’re bidding goodbyes.

It feels good to walk back to the apartment and to stretch your legs after going between sitting and standing. Sitting at the table already is Elysia, she looks happy to see you, “Welcome back.”

“Feels good to be back up here.” you laugh, tying your hair up, “Have you seen Finnick at all? He didn’t come by at all.”

Elysia shakes her head, “I went to get him for dinner and the rooms empty.”

“Huh,” you let out, sitting at the table.

It's odd, being here with only Elysia again. Makes your stomach churn slightly, actually. No tributes, no Finnick, only you in the betting room… Why do you have a feeling that this isn’t a coincidence?

You said that you’d give Finnick today. The first day isn’t the busiest, it’s the days that follow, when the heat starts to get turned up and the stakes rise. Then the tributes start getting hurt, requiring more to sustain whatever lifestyle they’ve built for themselves. It’s going to be impossible to go to the cornucopia to refill on goods when the entire thing is in a field. What are you going to do? Hide in the grass?

You and Elysia eat dinner, quietly chatting about what you think’s going to happen. In the end, it’s late and you should call it a night. But when you reach your room, hand on the doorknob, something tells you that you shouldn’t go to bed just yet. It’s a gut reaction, you look over towards Finnick’s room. It’s an invasion of privacy.

But there have been plenty of times before where Finnick has come into your space without permission, right? You sigh, kick off your shoes by your door, and then go into Finnick’s room. It’s dark and quiet and smells like perfumed fabric softener. You don’t bother with turning on the lights, Elysia already said that he wasn’t in here. 

You make yourself at home, tossing a pillow onto the hammock and using it to support your head and not get your hair stuck in the rope. You stare and watch and wait for a while, playing today over in your head. You don’t think that there’s a single thing you would have done differently. Annie and Marsh were smart to run towards the dam, and Annie knocked out a whole career while she was at it.

However, they also proved that they were a couple to keep an eye on. The girl from One is smart enough to see it like that, to want to go ahead and go after them. On one hand, it’s a good thing that the boys didn’t listen to her. Your tributes are still alive, in a house for the night. But on the other hand, four other tributes died because of it.

But then again, it was only a matter of time. You saw all of their deaths coming, and so did every other mentor in that room. None of you could have known that on the other side of the dam would be a village. What use is it to warn your tributes if they’re just going to be fucked either way?

Oh hey, there’s going to be a cracked dam inside of the arena this year. If you can, I’d probably steer clear of it. The most it seems to provide is a steady stream of water, so at least you have that! Also, I wouldn’t worry much because the dam looked pretty damn small when I got to see it.

What use would that have done? It would have been a fucking culture shock, to think that you’d be ahead of the games for once. Like, “Okay, don’t head toward the dam, use it as a last resort. Worse comes to worse and you can maybe outrun the water.” until you’re face to face with a concrete wall that’s literally a mile taller than you, and the only place to go is a field out in the open and a village that provides the only shelter.

If there was any time to facepalm, it would be now. Hell, even your warning at agility training is going to do fucking nothing. You originally thought that it would come in hand to hop from rock to hill or tree root or something, but that’s going to be hard to do in the grassy field. Yes, let’s hop from grass blade to grass blade.

So fucking stupid, all of this.

You sit there fuming for a little while longer, shaking your head, rolling your eyes and gritting your teeth. You wonder if any of the other mentors have seens something like this before. Wait, that’s stupid. Of course there’s been an arena before this that has been the biggest April fool’s prank of all. Haymitch Abernathy had to live in a hell disguised as a paradise. Yes, you think that might be the worst arena you’ve ever seen. And he had forty-seven other tributes to worry about on top of the killer squirrels.

You snort, but it’s really not all that funny.

The room door opens, you squint just before the lights are flickered on. Finnick stands in the doorway, wearing a white button down shirt and nice black slacks. A part of you wonders where he’s been all night to need to dress as nicely as this. His… job… for the lack of a better word, doesn’t start until after dinner, usually.

And supposedly, he’s been gone all day!

Finnick doesn’t seem to see you at first. You grin to yourself like a child, “Boo.”

He jumps, a startled sound escaping him, it sounds like a yelp. He turns with wide eyes, staring at you. You laugh to yourself, “What the fuck? How long have you been here for?” he presses his hand against his chest, “Gonna give me fucking war flashbacks.”

“Been here since dinner, which was…” you trail off, looking at the time, “About four hours ago, apparently.”

“Don’t you have anything better to do? Like watch the arena?” Finnick slips off his shoes and socks, beginning to unbutton his shirt.

“I did that all day, I actually waited here to tell you that it’s your turn.” 

His eyes land on you, “To what?”

“Watch the tributes, sit in the betting room until I relieve you.”

His face twists, “Nice choice of words.” 

You roll your eyes, “You owe me this much. I’ll give you a quick rundown about what happened--”

“I already know.”

You throw the pillow at him, “Perfect! You can put your shirt back on and go downstairs!”

He looks at you, “(Y/n), I’m tired.”

“I’ve been up since eight this morning.” you give him a smile, “It’s now nearly midnight. I think you can sit in the betting room for a couple of hours.”

“A couple is two.” Finnick says, “You’re asking me to sit in there for ten.”

“Which is almost half of what I did today! It’s only fair!”

He stares at you. He doesn’t look tired on the outside. In fact, it looks like he just woke up a couple of hours ago. If he were tired, he’d be more sluggish, and you’d know because you’ve been around him for years now. And the last week has shown you what it’s like to actually interact with him when he’s had tough days and nights.

Today is neither of them for him.

“Okay.” Finnick agrees.

“Okay?” you raise your eyebrows, “Sweet. I’ll be up at seven and down there at eight to switch places, then.”

Finnick starts buttoning his shirt back, you give him a cheeky smile, getting off the hammock and heading towards the door. You’re about to leave, but then you stop and turn towards him.

“If I get down there tomorrow morning and you’re nowhere to be seen, you’re not going to like what happens.” there’s no smile, the words are dead cold. Finnick stares at you, fingers frozen in place, “I can promise you that. Goodnight.”


	6. Chapter 6

You take your time getting ready, slightly comforted by the idea that Finnick has it handled. If he’s down there, and a situation arises where your tributes need something, he’s there to send in the sponsor gift. You’re sure that he’s even got other mentors to keep him company if he gets bored.

Still, you find yourself unintentionally moving quickly anyway, a deep feeling in your gut that not everything is what it seems. You rush through your shower, barely get your hair done. When you get dressed, it’s very simple clothing since you’re not expecting anything special today. 

You turn on the tv to catch up on what you might have missed while you eat. Knowing that you’ll be in the betting room for a while, you eat until you’re completely full. Even then, you grab some snacks for later. Cashmere and Enobaria might have brought lunch yesterday, but there’s no guarantee that the same happens today.

As far as you can tell, all the tributes are just waking up or still sleeping. Annie and Marsh are inside of the shack, dividing up supplies and quietly discussing what they’ll be doing today. It’s hard to know exactly since there’s no volume and no motioning this time around.

You think that they’ll either continue moving parallel to the dam to the right, or set up some snares for whatever animals that lie inside of the woods. You know that would be one of the first orders of business, especially when you don’t have an endless amount of supplies to count on anymore.

The careers are sleeping in the cornucopia, not a big surprise. The girl from One is sat upright, hand gripping a knife, clearly supposed to be on watch. But she’s out cold, the early morning air tends to make a lot of people drowsy inside of the arena. They don’t really have anything to worry about too, so that just worsens it.

As for all the other tributes, they’re in their own little bubbles. District Seven is still asleep, under the cover of spring green leaves and sticks. A feeble shelter, and it’s pretty obvious that they’re there. District Nine girl is awake, she’s laying in the middle of the grass, hands over her stomach. You don’t know how she’s so nonchalant. She’s got no supplies.

Six boy is asleep, the map that the Capitol provides shows that he’s far enough away to not even worry about others finding him. Sometime in the afternoon yesterday he stopped wandering and started hunting for food. You have a feeling that he’s going to get right back to it today, it only makes sense.

The other tribute in the village is asleep, as well as the District Eight girl, who’s in the woods. No one died last night, which is a good sign. It just means that today is either going to go very slowly or too quickly. After the first day of the games, tributes slowly get picked off. When and what order is always a toss up.

You leave the apartment and head down to the betting room, forcing yourself to take your time. Finnick will be there, your tributes just woke up, there’s only one other person awake in that arena right now. However, it’s still worrying that no one knows where she is exactly. Well, the gamemakers have to know because she has a tracker inside of her, but they’re purposely not showing you guys to add some sort of suspense to it.

The betting room is fairly empty, only a few mentors mill around. Most are still in their rooms sleeping, same goes for every other Capitol citizen in this city. The first day of the games is always the most exciting. The days following is when the boring shit really starts.

Your eyes sweep the room, looking for Finnick to tell him to get to bed before the sun rises too high. But you’re only met with the friendly sight of Gloss half-asleep on the couch. Finnick is nowhere to be seen in here. You press your lips together. Maybe he just left? But the clock says that you aren’t late, and you didn’t even see him in the hallway.

He left early, didn’t he? You asked one simple job from him, all he had to do was sit here all night. And he’s not even here. Oh, it seems as if he’s suddenly forgotten just how awful you can be. He thought threatening was the only way you could get what you wanted? He’s about to see something new.

Two can play at this game. Cat and mouse won’t be fun when you’re cornered with nowhere else to go, Odair. You don’t do second chances.

If today is slow and boring, that just means tomorrow is going to pick up. It’ll decide how the entire rest of the week is going to go for the tributes inside of the arena. You’ll give Finnick one more day, let him think that he’s in control and you won’t have any sort of leverage. But then he’ll be trapped. 

You’re not sure when or how Finnick forgot that you create master plans, but he’s going to be reminded that anything he does, you can do better. You’re always two steps ahead. This is like your own personal game, you already told him you’re in control. It’s just time to prove it.

You pat Gloss’ knee when you pass in front of him, taking a seat on the couch. He hums slightly, opening his eyes to see you. A smile creeps onto his face, and he turns his head away from you.

“Good morning.” You toss a snack bag at him, and then curl your legs up beneath you, “How long have you been out here for?”

“Only a couple of hours. I’m regretting it already.” Gloss mutters, taking the snack bag and opening it up, “Thanks.”

“Figured one of us would need it.” You smile, looking at the Morning Line Odds. Only a few changes, all of which belong to the careers. Annie is still at 6-1, Marsh is at 7-1, “Is there any chance you saw Finnick down here this morning when you came around?”

Gloss thinks for a moment, “No, I don’t think so. Why?”

The confirmation from Gloss is really all you need. Even if Finnick were to bribe Gloss to keep quiet, it wouldn’t last. Gloss would take the bribe but still come around and tell you. You and him have known each other longer, he’s not going to lie to you. Much less keep information like that from you. It’s fairly important, and they all know your annoyance when it comes to Finnick.

Your silence, and probably the look on your face, tips off Gloss, “Oh, you talked to him last night?”

The smile you give Gloss isn’t exactly warm, “I waited in his room for hours until he finally came back. He didn’t even look tired. I told him to come down here and wait until eight just in case anything were to happen in the arena and…”

You motion, there’s no Finnick. No trace of Finnick, no memory lingering. He flaked. You warned him not to do it, just to wait it out. It was only a couple of hours, and he couldn’t do it. 

“Does he realize that it’s easier than he thinks?” Gloss asks, chewing.

You stare, shrug and then fall back onto the couch slightly. You’re tired, and disappointed. He’s mentored before, he knows the severity of being there just in case. The arena is a mystery, sometimes it’s even unpredictable to the gamemakers. There are hundreds of thousands of different scenarios that could happen.

One tribute could run into another. Will they fight? That means injuries, the tribute might need a sponsor to make sure they get through the night. Capitol escorts can’t confirm or deny gifts, and other mentors can’t do it for you either. Maybe the tributes will silently agree to an alliance for a minute and leave each other alone. 

Or maybe, they’ll confirm an alliance, then you’ll have to work with other mentors. The sooner you get that line of communication going, the better the connection will be. The more likely it’ll be for your tributes to get along and get the things that they might need.

Mutts are constantly around the corner, and the gamemakers have endless possibilities of what they can send inside of the arena. They’ve been working at this for decades. One dull moment inside of the arena could cost a life. Also, accidents happen too. The tributes don’t always intend to self-sabotage but you’ve seen tributes get too used to the knife on their belt and forget that it’s there. You move the wrong way, and suddenly you’re impaled.

All of this and more happens at inconvenient times. You could be just waking up, in the middle of a nap, eating, talking to someone important. Maybe you’re already sending in a different sponsor gift for another tribute and have to switch gears out of the blue. 

You need a second hand, you’re so fucking tired of running on two percent. Finnick is here for a reason, it’s to look over the tributes. He’s supposed to want to help! Those tributes have no choice but to rely on you guys, and he’s making it out to look like an option. 

And if it’s the nighttime shift that’s the problem because of how boring and slow it is, you’ll switch. The problem is, you’re not sure why he would want to do that. With his current problem still going on every single year, he should want the night shift. Basically no one is here, everyone goes home for the night except for a select few.

You should be taking the daytime anyway, because you’re on your toes better than he is. He’s gotten sluggish, he isn’t as quick as you are. It’s just what happens when you’re out of practice, or refuse to do your job for so long. You’ve picked up the ability to work quicker. But you can’t sleep quicker, or eat quicker, or speed up what’s going on inside of the arena. 

You close your eyes and rub your face. There’s several ways you can go about this, with one taking more time and potentially putting your tributes in danger. And the second one being not as self-respecting, you’ll turn heads, but it’ll get Finnick to come around quicker.

The answer should be obvious. You should want the one that will get Finnick to start as soon as possible. You’re not exactly sure what you’re subjecting yourself to if you do it, though. But you also don’t want to put the tribute in danger if it’s not needed. 

You’ll start tomorrow. You’re already down here, so you probably shouldn’t leave for the rest of the day anyway. Especially since Annie and Marsh are awake now, who knows what kind of trouble they can get themselves into. For all you know, they could come across the other tributes and immediately pounce.

“Well, you’ve got to have some sort of plan, right?” Gloss asks, you look at him, “You’re not the master planner for nothing.”

“Ha.” you let out, cracking a smile, “Oh, I’ve got plans. And I’m going to do the one I know will work first.”

“Straight to the point. Care to share?” 

“You’ll see tomorrow morning.” you wink.

Around noon is when the rest of the tributes start to get up and ready for the day. By then, Annie and Marsh have moved pretty far away from the shack. They were sure not to leave anything behind that might show the others that someone was there. It would be an open invitation for a stalker for the rest of the games.

It was smart for them to move away too, since there’s no doubt that everyone is going to start looking for water now. With the exception of the boy from Six, who’s still traveling but not as efficiently today. He probably thinks that he’s in the clear, so he can take his time. The only person that doesn’t seem to be looking for water is Three boy, who looks like he’s searching for food.

The career pack has moved to the woods, narrowly missing the Seven tributes while they’re at it. Unfortunately, the careers find the stream of water pretty easily, but it wasn’t through tracking, just pure luck. The Seven tributes follow them, so that also creates a problem. Five unwanted people now know the vague location of where Annie and Marsh had stayed. It’s probably not safe to be there anymore.

While the careers aren’t in the cornucopia, the Eight girl sneaks in and gets a backpack. That’s going to change her whole game, especially since it’s a backpack from far back inside. It’ll be carrying everything she could ever hope for, with the exception of water. She’ll still have to find that on her own. 

Enobaria comes around with lunch, but there’s no sign of Wade. She lets you know that they’ll probably be taking the night shift from now on. Cashmere doesn’t mind sitting here in an empty room, and Wade doesn’t like dealing with the Capitol citizens. And Enobaria is much better at communicating what she wants from them, or getting to do what she wants.

Either way, you’re glad to have her. You, Gloss and Enobaria enjoy yourselves for the rest of the day. Like you expected, it’s a slow day. Annie and Marsh set up snares and manage to catch a single rabbit to share. They’re a couple of hours away from where they’re staying, so they have to make the entire journey back and be careful while they’re at it.

The careers tried looking for other tributes, but the District Seven tributes are smart enough to keep out of sight. The girl from Nine is still on her own little mission, she doesn’t seem like quite the threat just yet. Eight girl doesn’t find water and takes shelter flush up against the dam. While Five boy wanders aimlessly, getting to know his surroundings.

And finally, the two tributes in the village are so far apart from each other and the people in the woods that they don’t have to worry about anything. It makes for an uneventful evening, but that just means tomorrow is going to pick up. The gamemakers won’t let this go on for very long. The Hunger Games is supposed to be a show, after all.

Since you’re the only one that seems to genuinely care for your tributes, you stay well past dinner to make sure that they’re in a good position before leaving. Annie and Marsh cooked their rabbit while there was still daylight. They also didn’t move from the snares, just in case someone were to spot them. You watched as Annie applied s little more of the healing cream to her cuts before deciding that she didn’t want to use anymore just in case she needed it in the future.

After they were done eating, they moved all the way back over to the shack. With it being unoccupied by others, they have shelter for another night. You wonder how long it’ll be before someone finds the shack and decides to make it into their own place. Maybe that’ll be the push for Annie and Marsh to relocate in the village.

Either way, once Annie takes watch, short blade by her thigh, tying and untying the rope, you think that it’s as good a time as any to leave. You hug Cashmere goodbye and wish them an uneventful night. Wade does the two-finger wave from his eyebrow as a goodbye.

The apartment is still pretty lit up when you get inside. There’s no sign of Elysia as far as you can see. Knowing her, she’s probably gone to bed already so that she’ll be up early tomorrow. And Finnick is avoiding you, there’s no question about it. It won’t last long, you know he’ll be talking to you in a day or two.

You head straight to your room and order small meals on the food transport thing. Chicken, vegetables, fruits, soups, ice cream, cake, everything appears within a couple of seconds. You take your time eating, letting the drowsiness come to you. You’d rather be tired before going to bed than just laying down for hours and hoping that you’ll magically fall asleep.

When you’re full, you stack the plates in one spot, change clothes and brush your teeth before falling onto the bed. You stare off into the dark for a little while, dreading what you’ll be wearing in the morning. That doesn’t keep you from sleeping though, as much as you would have liked it to.

—

You spend a while in the shower, scrubbing your skin even after the soap is gone, trying to stall getting out. The longer you spend inside, the more you’re left to think about what you’ve agreed to. Well, ‘agreed’ to.

“It’ll only be a day.” You say, letting the machines dry your body and style your hair, “Maybe two if it really comes down to it.”

You put on shorts and a shirt first to eat breakfast, sitting at the table all by yourself. Still no Finnick, but Elysia saw you before she left this morning. She wanted to tell you that she’d be stopping by in the betting room to help you out somewhat. She can relate to the Capitol people, she can convince them that Annie and Marsh are worth betting on.

You brush your teeth, and find yourself staring at a coral pink dress. One that’s just long enough to be modest, but still shows as much skin as possible. The last time you really dressed up for the Capitol was during your Victory Tour. You don’t think you’ve worn a dress purposely since. Even during the reaping, you stick to long pants.

Either way, you pull the dress of the hanger and carefully put it on. It takes you a moment to pull the zipper up to your mid-back, since reaching is a pain in the ass. You slip your feet into white flats and then make your way back over to the bathroom.

Without focusing too much on the outfit and just how breezy it is, you carefully go through the makeup, only applying what’s necessary. Mascara, a small bit of eyeshadow, concealer if it’s dire. By the time you’ve worked through it all, you’d say that the makeup Leo does is excessive compared to what you’ve done. Then again, that’s his job.

You put on the ring, brush your teeth carefully, and then head down to the betting room. There will be no snacks to bring today, you’ll actually be eating at a place with the others nearby. And since the Hunger Games is the primary interest, you won’t miss a single thing. 

It’s half past nine when you get into the betting room. Gloss and Enobaria sit across from each other at a table, one chair open for you to take. As soon as Enobaria even catches a glimpse of you, she’s doing a double-take to make sure that she saw correctly. Gloss has his back turned, so he waits for you to come around.

“Hey,” you tuck the dress under yourself and find that it doesn’t provide as much protection as you thought. 

You looked in the mirror before you left, and you definitely can’t see anything unless you twirl. But you thought that the fabric would semi-protect you from the frigid ass chairs. It doesn’t, your face twists once you sit down. The back of your thighs are fully exposed.

“What the hell are you doing?” Enobaria laughs, eyebrows quirking inward.

Gloss stares for a second, and then snorts, “This is your plan?”

“What plan?”

You lean against the table slightly, “Okay first, the plan is going to work really good, and you’re going to realize that when Finnick comes down here tomorrow.” You give Gloss a look, he shakes his head. Moving onto Enobaria, “Second, Finnick has been avoiding me and this room so I’m forcing his hand.”

She nods, “By doing what exactly?”

“Jealousy.” You smile, “You’ll see. Just wait until it starts to get busier.”

In the meantime, you have to focus on your tributes. Annie and Marsh are already on their way to the snares, the gamemakers tune in to allow you to hear them talking about moving spots. Annie doesn’t want to stay near the dam, Marsh isn’t sure about a good time to leave.

If you were them, you’d leave early in the morning while everyone is sleeping. It’s almost a guaranteed safe path to the village. There’s no doubt that the careers are going to be sleeping in the cornucopia; it has all of the supplies and they wouldn’t want to risk anyone else getting their hands on weapons. And from what you’ve observed for years now, the lookouts always fall asleep.

If they leave just before the sun rises, the darkness will cover them. The only reason why you’d think that they wouldn’t want to move to the village is because of the water. They’re not sure if there’s water around the houses, while on the other hand, the stream is right there if they need it. They’ll be able to find it a lot quicker.

It’s only the third day, though. They can probably take another day or two before deciding to leave. The gamemakers don’t want to end the game too early, so they’re probably pretty safe by the dam. However, comparing the dam to the village, the village would be preferable. There’s only one tribute that Annie and Marsh would have to worry about. The dam has four–potentially five–tributes. And with the careers knowing about the stream now, it bumps it up to seven.

Still, your tributes get up, refill on water, and leave for the day. With that, the perspective switches to the only other group that’s really important: the careers. They’re gearing up today, getting backpacks, placing weapons in spots that you’d think is uncomfortable. Looks like they’re looking for a slaughter today. You’re not sure if they’ll even be able to get that far.

The girl from One seems to be hellbent on going after Annie and Marsh, but that’s for a good reason. Annie literally killed her counterpart, Colt, you think his name was. It’s obviously a revenge thing, it happens a lot inside of the Hunger Games. You kill a member of an alliance and naturally the alliance is going to try and come back around.

It’s a problem, though. If it were only Annie, there’s nearly a one-hundred percent chance of all three of the careers making it out alive. Even with Annie’s knowledge in fighting, she won’t be able to hold all of them off. Same thing with Marsh, he’s an excellent fighter, but at some point you’ve got to draw the line.

However, it’s not just Annie, it’s Annie and Marsh. They’re a duel package, both you’d consider at the top of their classes. There was one time you put them head to head in a fighting match, out of yours and Anchor’s pure curiosity, and you had to call it off a couple minutes in. They would have killed each other.

If the careers even dared to come at them, especially when the both of them are prepared for a fight, the careers would not leave unscathed. In fact, you think that Annie and Marsh could overpower them easily, kill all three of them and the only people they’d have to worry about in the arena after that, would be the nobodies.

It wouldn’t be an easy job to do, they’d probably get hurt in the process. You think that if they were to do it, they’d have to be the ones to initiate the fight. The problem with that is, Annie would never do that unless her life was in immediate danger. And Marsh wouldn’t want to start it by himself. A good example of this is when Colt had his eyes locked on Annie during the bloodbath. She knew that it was fight or die, so she chose fight.

Hell, if they just ambushed the careers while they’re sleeping in the cornucopia, they’d only have to worry about killing one person. Especially if they killed two at the same time. Again, the problem would be solved. It would make for a quick Hunger Games, but no one ever wants to be inside of the arena for more than a week or two. You were in there for three, and look at what it did to you.

The arena slowly begins to come to life when it hits eleven, which is also when the influx of Capitol citizen starts. You take one look over the Morning Line Odds to see that it was the same as yesterday for everyone. No one has moved up or down, probably because there hasn’t been a chance for any tribute to show off what they know.

And with that, you start your plan of moving around the betting room, talking to everyone that you can. Most you haven’t seen in a while, so it’s basically catching up like old friends. Except, you aren’t friends and you don’t really care what they’ve been up to. But as long as they think that you like them, the more likely they are to sponsor.

And with the people that you haven’t seen before, you introduce yourself and let them have their moment of realization. You’re not a living legend, you haven’t done anything special enough to even earn a title like that. It’s more like you have a habit of not opening up your horizons and allowing people to talk to you often. You approaching them is a whole new chapter of the story.

They seem to enjoy your presence, it’s not before long you’ve got your own little circle made. People of all different classes, different colors and thicker accents stand around you. They ask questions about your tributes, you give off more information than necessary in the hopes that they’ll get attached to the idea of Annie and Marsh. They ask if the interview was planned, and you tell them that you were just as shocked as everyone else. Which is obviously a complete lie, and anyone who had actually been paying attention to you or Finnick would know that.

That part doesn’t matter. What does is the fact that you’re gaining attention, and therefore people are taking notice of what you’re wearing. The mentors normally wear casual clothes, they don’t dress up nicely. Appealing to the Capitol is always the last thing that they want. Which you can completely understand why, but you’re going for the opposite today. And it’s working.

It’s sometime around three in the afternoon when the gamemakers suddenly square in on the Six boy. The room falls silent enough for you all to actually hear what the boy is saying–er singing. He’s singing some song to himself, one that you don’t recognize, so it’s probably native to District Six.

That’s not what has you all quiet and confused, though. Everyone could care less about the singing. In fact, no one really cares about the tribute in general. But if the gamemakers think that he’s important enough to get a full screen all by himself, then there’s something wrong. 

He’s wandering along a dirt path, hands swinging by his sides. He almost looks happy, being out there all by himself. You wouldn’t ever wander that far, not without knowing that there’s food or water nearby. It’s literally the only thing that can keep you inside of the arena. But as long as he’s having fun… right?

Yeah, well, one moment he’s just fine and looks like he could actually be inside of his home district instead dof the Hunger Games. And the next, there’s some sort of electrical explosion, with the audio blasting loud enough to even startle you. The boy flies back, hits the ground hard and a cannon goes off. He’s dead. District Six is going home.

You look over to Enobaria and Gloss, who look just as confused as you feel. You excuse yourself from the Capitol people and join them, “Guesses?”

Enobaria opens her mouth, closes it, and then reopens, “Maybe he reached the end of the arena?”

“But has that ever happened in the past?” Gloss asks, you turn so you can watch the screen again.

It’s full of reactions to the cannon. Annie and Marsh pause, debate, and then get back to going around their snares. The careers are unsure, One girl hopes that it’s Annie, you can’t help but roll your eyes and wait for the gamemakers to move on. As for everyone else, they’re either indifferent or they’re thinking what the rest of you are: just one more tribute out of the game. 

“There had to be one before, right?” you look at Gloss, “The arena can’t be infinite.”

“Do any of us know any older mentors that’s left out here?” Enobaria asks. 

Your eyes find Cecelia, the female mentor from District Eight. She’s sitting on some chair, hands resting in her lap while she watches the screen. But she’s only in her thirties, so it wouldn’t be that far before you and Finnick. Actually, you think all the older tributes, the ones that you’d consider dinosaurs, has gone home already. District Eleven had two mentors from twenty years or more before you were born. And Haymitch isn’t that old, but he’s got more than fifteen years on you.

“Cecelia…?” you loosely suggest, and then turn back towards them, “I don’t know.”

“Well, at any rate, your Capitol friends are missing you.” Enobaria says.

You all look over to see that they’re beckoning you over, waiting for you to join them. It’s only been a couple of hours and you’ve already left a lasting impression. Enobaria says that she’ll ask Cecelia, you go ahead and go back to what you were doing before. 

You stay with them, but don’t pay as much attention. The tribute dying like that shouldn’t be this important to you, but you’ve never seen it before. Knowing stuff like this for the future of the boarding school is important. The more you know, the more you can advise tributes. It increases efficiency. Plus it’s something you’d never expect, so you wouldn’t really think of it in the first place.

Maybe Mags will know, or Anchor. You’ll just have to ask them when you get back home. It’s not worth the phone call. Plus, you’re sure that all the times that you’re available, they won’t be. Unlike you, they actually go to bed at regular times. They don’t need to stay up at all hours of the night.

And if Cecelia knows, then she can give you an answer. Sometimes she has the older male victor, whatever his name is. He won a couple of years after Mags, but he’s not doing so hot. While Mags only had a stroke, you’ve heard about his medical stuff in passing. He’s basically deteriorating. Well, in that case, he probably won’t have any recollection.

When the evening starts to become more prominent, people start leaving for supper. You find yourself saying more goodbyes than holding conversation at all. You’ve learned a lot today, like how you’re not exactly in Finnick’s shadow as much as you thought you were. And Annie is actually pretty adored for her mannerisms.

You find yourself back with Gloss and Enobaria, falling onto the couch and rubbing your feet because they hurt from you standing for so long. Enobaria tells you that Cecelia hasn’t seen anything like it before, more like heard about it. Coming across reruns of previous Hunger Games is hard, mostly because the capitol is all about the Hunger Games that’s happening right now.

But that doesn’t mean that it can’t be passed from mouth to ear. With that, Cecelia briefly joins your table, pulling up a chair with a polite smile. You’ve talked to Cecelia before, she’s got a motherly aspect to her, and that’s because she has a couple of kids of her own. She got married after her Hunger Games, which is not something a lot of victors tend to do. No one wants the chance of their children going through what you’ve already been through.

Unless something happens, you think that you won’t be having kids, either. Worrying over Alyssum is already giving you grey hairs, and she’s seven. You’ve already decided that she’s going to start the training early, as soon as she hits nine, she’s going to be in the boarding school as often as you can get her in there. And unlike the other kids, she won’t be starting slow.

Anyway, Cecelia starts at the very beginning by asking you three if you know Haymitch’s Hunger Games, which is an obvious yes. He was a Quarter Quell winner, he went up against forty-seven other tributes. And while his arena looked like heaven, it was a disguise for the worst imaginable nightmare. He couldn’t trust anything inside.

Well, Cecelia says that Haymitch briefly teamed up with one of the girl tributes from home. The two of them wandered for a while, even forcing themselves through hedges with fire. But when they got through, they found out that it was a cliff with jagged rocks at the bottom. Cecelia immediately relates this back to your games, saying that the cliff was basically a copycat.

Haymitch wanted to stay at the cliff, the girl wanted to leave. They said their goodbyes, but it wasn’t long until the girl was dead because of some pink birds that speared her throat. Later, two more tributes would end up dying in their own horrifying ways, leaving just Haymitch and a girl career to fight it out.

“It was a gorey fight.” Cecelia says, her voice quiet as if she doesn’t want to offend Haymitch. But he’s nowhere to be seen, in fact, he’s probably back home by now.

The girl had lost an eye, but not before Haymitch’s stomach had been completely cut open. Haymitch ran through the beautiful landscape, holding his intestines in while being chased by the career girl. He led her all the way to the cliffside, ultimately cornering himself. 

You picture yourself side-by-side with Haymitch back when you were in your own Hunger Games. Half-dead, suffering from typhoid, the only thing running through your body anymore was adrenaline. It was fight or die, and you didn’t want to die. You were so close to going home.

And Haymitch, holding in his stomach, back to the cliff, knowing that he led her there for a reason. It was to stall, to tire her out and have a sliver of a chance at making it back home by some miracle. You and him were practically the same age when you won the Hunger Games. While Haymitch was sixteen, you were fifteen.

Cecelia says that the career girl threw the ax she was carrying just as Haymitch collapsed to the floor. The ax flew over the side of the cliff, officially getting rid of the only weapon she had. While she tried to stop the bleeding from her eye, Haymitch was seizing on the ground. He was probably minutes away from death.

She pauses for a moment, “And then the ax came back.”

“What?” you three ask at the same time.

“The ax came back up and killed the career girl, making Haymitch the victor. It happened because Haymitch reached the end of the arena. The forcefield or whatever it was at the bottom threw it back. It’s the same technology that’s used with the balconies to keep tributes from jumping off.” Cecelia says.

She’s right. You even showed Annie and Marsh yourself. You knew that the arena wasn’t limitless, that it had to stop at some point but you didn’t think that it would be built like that. You thought it would be some sort of unbreakable wall that the tributes wouldn’t be able to get through.

Okay, well, this changes a lot, actually.

Cecelia wraps up the story, telling you that Snow thought that Haymitch collapsing was an act of rebellion. Because of it, Haymitch had his entire family and girlfriends at the time killed because of it. This is just another puzzle piece to the misery that is Haymitch Abernathy, but at least some of his actions nowadays can be explained. If you were him, you’d probably turn to drinking too.

You all bid Cecelia goodbye when she leaves, thanking her for the information. Annie and Marsh have just reached their shack again when the sun begins to set. You don’t want to stay in the betting room for any longer than you have to. Plus, now you’ve got to ask Elysia why she didn’t make it down at all today, not that you really mind. You’re sure she would’ve had a mouthful and a half to say about what you’re wearing.

You hug Gloss and Enobaria, “Finnick will be with you tomorrow, right?”

“More than likely.” You give them a slight grin, “If he doesn’t look very happy, don’t be surprised.”

“Evil genius.” Gloss mutters, you elbow him.

“Goodnight, good luck with your tributes.”

“Thanks.” Enobaria waves, you leave the betting room while you can.

The dress wasn’t all that bad by the end of the day. It was hard to get used to at first, and the paranoia of others staring was a constant in your mind. But after you got into conversations, it was easier to forget what you were doing. If the Capitol wasn’t the way it is, you think that you’d like to stay here permanently.

Laurel is sat at the table when you get up, and you guess that instantly answers your question about where Elysia has been. They’ve probably been working together at Laurel’s place. As much as it doesn’t seem like it at times, Laurel actually enjoys the company of others, especially when she’s sketching out new ideas for the tribute parade and whatnot. Normally she relies on Pleurisy for the company, though, so something must’ve changed.

At first, no one seems to actually comprehend your presence until you’re standing at the table in front of them. Only then does Elysia stare at you, Laurel minimally raises her eyebrows before going back to sipping on her red wine. She doesn’t care, you’re sure that she actually enjoys you putting her designs to use for once.

“Finnick around?”

“Just left. You missed him.” Elysia says.

He must’ve taken the other elevator, which brings him to a different part of the building. It’s away from the betting room, and it’s a long walk to get to. But with his determination at avoiding you, you’re sure that anything is possible when it comes to him. Hers managed the couple of days thus far, who knows how long he’d try and keep it up for if it was his choice.

Fortunately, you’re smarter than him sometimes. If it were you, you probably wouldn’t have tested your own patience and wit after the reaping on the train. Really, it doesn’t take a genius to know when someone isn’t fucking around. After the whole week that you just went through, you’d think he’d know that by now.

At any rate, you eat dinner with Elysia and Laurel. It’s not at all quiet like it has been the last couple of days. In fact, the entire reason why Laurel is here in the first place is to discuss whether or not you think that Annie or Marsh is going to win. She wants to start preparing the outfits now, because the sooner they’re done, the better. It’ll leave room for you guys to focus on other matters.

Of course, your answer is yes. There’s no doubt that your tributes have a fighting chance. There might be half the arena still in the game, but it’ll only be a matter of time before they’re gone too. At the beginning rate that they were dying at, you knew that the games would be over quickly. A week and a half you said, and the half is already over.

Laurel’s glad to hear that you have confidence in the tributes. After dessert, you stick around them for a little while, only leaving when you’ve been assured that they won’t need your opinion for anything else. With that, you go to your room to wipe off the makeup and go to bed. 

It’s a rinse and repeat the following morning. You think that it can’t hurt to get ready just in case Finnick hadn’t caught the word yet. But you’re sure by now that a lot of the Capitol has heard how vulnerable you made yourself yesterday. Either way, you wash your hair, do it in the same style it was before you pulled it out last night, and then put on the dress.

Yesterday it was a coral pink, today it’s long-sleeved and has white lace. You use the same white shoes, since they’re not scuffed and they actually match today. You take your time in the bathroom, slip the ring over your finger, and make your way out of the hallway. You haven’t put this much effort into what you look like since after your Hunger Games, when the reporters were everywhere and taking pictures. You didn’t really have a choice.

You’re two steps out of the doorway when you see that the table isn’t vacant this morning. You pause for a moment, staring at the bronze-colored hair. His back is turned to you, which is unfortunate since you have a smug grin on your face. You’d love for him to see just how victorious you are.

See, Finnick can run and hide, but you know how to bait and hook. It took one day of showing skin and getting the Capitol riled up to draw him out. A part of you wishes that he would’ve stayed back a little while longer, just to see how much he could tolerate before it was too much. But you’re glad that he’s made it easy for you.

You head down the three steps, passing by him to take your seat at the other end of the table. You can’t even do that, Finnick grabs a hold of your wrist tightly, spinning you towards him. When you make eye contact, you see that he’s glaring, straight-faced. You can’t say that you’re surprised, you knew that he wouldn’t be happy. Having your hand forced is never a pretty sight.

“Go change.” He says, not letting you go.

Your face twists, “No—“

“If you want me to help, you’ll go and change.” Finnick says.

You squint at him, “You’ll help me for the rest of the games.”

Finnick nods, letting you go. You stand there for a moment. If he goes back on his word, you can just try the second plan. This also gives you an excuse to not wear this in the betting room. Without a word, you go back to your room.

You don’t have a lot of time, so you end up changing into jeans and a white shirt, slipping on laceless tennis shoes. The makeup can stay because it’s not all that noticeable anyway. It’s just there to accentuate what you already have. You join Finnick at the table again, eating in silence.

When you’re done, you quickly brush your teeth and meet him at the elevator. He jabs his thumb into the button, calling the ride to you two. You get in first, press the button to the betting room, and head all the way down. At some point, Finnick crosses his arms, staring at the door in front of him.

“You’re so stupid.” Finnick says.

You look at him, eyebrows raised, “Excuse you?”

He shakes his head, “You can’t just go out and do shit like that. You’ll cause problems for yourself.”

“Finnick, as much as you like to think I’m oblivious, I’m not.” You snap, “You think I dressed up without knowing what the Capitol would say? What they would think?”

“Well, you were stupid enough to try it a second time!” He bursts.

You stomp towards him, swiftly grabbing his shirt collar to pull him to your height. Much like how you grabbed Wade, but this time Finnick can’t push himself away to escape. Not when you slam his back against the glass wall, trapping him here.

“Do not speak to me like that.” Your voice is measured, but you’d love to beat him to near death in here. If there is one word that doesn’t describe you, it’s stupid. You’re not stupid. If you were stupid, you wouldn’t have made it out of that arena alive with Finnick, “Do it again, you won’t like what happens. After all your shit that I’ve put up with, you owe me some respect.”

“I don’t owe you anything.” Finnick’s confidence is admirable, but he should really learn when to keep his mouth shut. The fact that he doesn’t seem bothered at all pisses you off more.

You let go of Finnick’s shirt with one hand, seeing the wrinkles that you’ve left behind on the collar. But with the one hand that still has a tight grip, you twist your hand, and throw him to the other end of the elevator. Your hand slaps the button that’ll keep the elevator in place. Finnick might have been able to catch himself, since the elevator is so tiny, if it weren’t for your foot that you kicked out in time to trip him.

He hits the floor, turns to sit against the wall, and stares at you with wide eyes. Your breathing has increased, a tightness growing in your throat, “I am so fucking sick and tired of your fucking attitude!” Your voice is loud, “I have done nothing but let you off easy for the past week, and this is how you treat me?”

Your fingers curl into fists, “All I wanted was help. I asked for your help. I even gave you the fucking nighttime to make it easier for you. There’s no one in there at night, which means that you’re not put in any sort of danger. And I get it that it’s a little hard to trust me and realize that I’m working in your best interest, but it’s true.

“So do me a fucking favor.” you suck in air through your teeth, relaxing your hands and pressing the button again, “And stop acting like I’m beneath you. I’m not, and if I was, I would’ve stooped down to your shitty level and stopped paying attention to our tributes too.”

The doors open, you place your hand out to keep them from closing, “This is not a game, and if it was, you would’ve lost by now.”

You start off without him, getting more than halfway down the hall before you finally hear him following. When you get inside of the betting room, you see that neither Gloss or Enobaria are sitting on the couch. In fact, they’re standing in a small group of people by the sponsor table.

You check the Morning Line Odds to see if anyone has died. They shouldn’t have run out of food already, and they know where water is. If they’re getting sponsored right now, that means they got into some sort of fight. Which means that someone should’ve died but there’s no new faces greyed out.

The only real difference is the odds, Marsh has gone from a 7-1 to a 6-1. Same goes for a few of the other tributes, they either increased or decreased, with the exception of the careers, who still hold the same odds that they had yesterday. The girl from One is a 4-1, the girl from Two is a 5-1, and her district partner is a 3-1. 

You head towards them, wanting to hear what’s happened. The screen is showing anything too interesting, it’s the same thing it’s been for the past two mornings. The only change is that the careers are awake this early in the morning, and they’ve got a bigger spot on screen than usual.

Enobaria sees you through her peripheral, and moves slightly so that she can talk to you. She also spares a minor glance behind you, and you do the same to make sure that Finnick hasn’t found a way to disappear into thin air. He hasn’t, he’s actually still coming towards you.

“What happened?” you ask.

Gloss looks over at the sound of your voice, and then does the exact same thing that you and Enobaria just did to see Finnick, “A scuffle.”

Enobaria snorts, “A lot more than a scuffle–Sanguin would’ve killed Geare if it weren’t for Vanilee!”

You blink. “Who?”

“Sanguin is my tribute.” Gloss says, “She got into a fight with Geare, Enobaria’s male tribute. It was a disagreement, and it escalated a lot more than it should’ve.”

“And Vanilee is the girl, who nearly got killed for stepping in.” Enobaria glares at Gloss for a second, and then she turns her eyes on Finnick, “Do you know what personal space is?”

“Don’t you have something more important to focus on?” Finnick retaliates.

Enobaria doesn’t say anything else to him, turning her back, “Anyway, no one died but they’re hurt so we’re organizing two separate gifts to send. Sanguin went off by herself to the village.”

Well, you’re not sure what she’ll be trying to find at the village. There’s only the Three boy hiding out there, and there are far too many houses to just start randomly searching. It’s not like she even knows that the tribute is out there, anyway. Your best guess is that she went to clear her head.

When they start talking about who’s to send first, Enobaria immediately interjects, “I should send mine first because Sanguin attacked Geare.”

“Oh, give it up.” Gloss says, “If your tributes had a shred of common sense, they’d be listening to Sanguin.”

“Except Sanguin just wants revenge.” Enobaria bites back, bearing her sharp, white teeth, “Annie and Marsh don’t pose that big of a threat, anyway. They’re in the woods surviving, not actively killing anyone. Annie got lucky that Colt was a fucking moron.”

Gloss opens his mouth, but Enobaria’s moved onto sending the sponsor gift. He gives you a look, “She acts like her tributes wouldn’t be desperate to do the exact same thing if Annie killed one of them.”

“True.” you mutter, “I don’t think your alliance is going to last very long.”

“Neither do I.” Gloss says.

The two of you look up at the big screen. It’s focused on Sanguin, who has her sword’s blade flat on her shoulder so it’s easier to carry. She must’ve started walking only recently, because she still has a few hours to go. It took the careers basically the entire day to get to the village on the first day.

There’s a small video of the Three boy going on in the corner. He’s no longer inside of his house, and with the sun shining on him, he looks extremely pale. He places his hand against the nearest wall to keep him upright, squints through the sunlight, and then starts his way out of the village.

“Oh shit.” you say. 

Enobaria sends in her sponsor gift, her tributes get it just fine. And even though it’s technically his turn, Gloss doesn’t move from where he stands. He clearly wants Sanguin to run across Three boy, and sponsoring her would ruin that. She’s in a specific mindset, he’s unarmed. And you suppose this could be a way for her to blow off steam. The poor boy is a pacifier to her growing agitation.

You take a step back, wanting to find a better place to stand, and find that Enobaria wasn’t exaggerating about Finnick’s close presence. You bump straight into him, his hands find your shoulders, directing you around Gloss. You try and shrug off his hands, but he doesn’t let go. So this is how today is going to be, a fucking irritation.

Sanguin is still a while away from the village, if anything is going to happen between her and the Three boy, it’s going to be an hour or so away from now. At the pace she’s walking now, she’ll be there before or after noon. So, until then, you can focus on your tributes and the Capitol people around you.

You move around the betting room, Finnick keeping close behind you. You try not to be annoyed with it, silently wishing that he’d chill out and sit somewhere if he’s just going to hover like this. But you don’t brush him off, you wanted him down here, so now you’ve got to put up with it. Not to mention, you have two older brothers and a younger sister, you’ve dealt with more than your fair share of annoying people.

Still, you can’t help but to wonder if he’s being like this on purpose to try and make you tell him to go away. He stands too close, he’ll have his hand on your arm, shoulder or elbow while you talk to people. The good thing is that the people don’t ask about it. Hell, they hardly seem to notice it in the first place, or they’re just being extremely polite, which is a whole new ordeal.

Annie and Marsh go out to their snares for lunch, the District Seven tributes catch their own animals to skin and eat. The other two–potentially three–tributes in the woods are focused on getting water and finding food. Whether it be an animal, berries or some roots from an edible plant.

At around ten, Sanguin has almost made it to the village. Three boy was further in than all of you thought, and at the pace he’s going, he’s clearly miserable and out of his mind. He drags his feet through the dirt, creating a literal snail path behind him. If Nine girl were inside of the village, all she’d have to do is find the path and follow it to him.

You’re also able to watch your tributes come around to their snares, moving from one to another. They’re used to seeing some empty by now, there’s not always going to be some rabbit or squirrel strung up in the air. However, every single one that they’ve come across this far is bare. Either they’re not going to eat tonight, or they need to start a plan b.

Or, you can always start your own plan too.

You give Gloss and Enobaria a smile, “I’ll be back.”

“Going to make sure your tributes don’t starve?” Gloss asks, snorting slightly.

“Yup.” you turn to Finnick, “You don’t have to come, this’ll only take a second.”

He’s got this dead look in his eyes, partially because he clearly didn’t get enough sleep. He was obviously banking on the hope that you wouldn’t go and pull something like you did yesterday. Sleep during the day and be up all hours of the night. Another whole reason why you think that he’s not the brightest light bulb in the box.

Anyway, he pushes himself up from the couch. You start your way towards a certain group, you’ve known them for a while now, but Finnick places a hand on that arm to keep you from going.

“What the hell–”

“Not them.” Finnick says.

“They’re fine, I’ve worked with them for years.” you turn towards him, grabbing his hands out of irritation, “Quit it.”

Finnick doesn’t look bothered, “(Y/n), we’ve spent time in the Capitol in two different ways. You know your way around mentoring and how to get the best possible result out of the week, and I know the way that the people think and what they want to do just by how they look. For once, trust me on this. You want to stop being around them before it’s too late.”

You let go of his hands, taking in a deep breath. There can’t be any collaboration without cooperation on both parts. You know this. And he’s not wrong, either. You both have two different areas of expertise at this point. If he’s sure that the second group will give you the same outcome, then you might as well.

“Okay, thank you.” you flash him a smile before heading towards the group he wanted you to be at.

They’re not so bad, they just don’t know you as well. But after a couple of minutes of talking with them, even Finnick has pitched in a few times at some points, they’ve warmed right up to you. A man mentions how he wishes he could be more of a help to them, and you jump at the opportunity in the most responsible way possible.

In no time, you’re sending in a feast to your beloved tributes. You thank the group of sponsors a lot, and spend the next hour talking to them about what foods Annie and Marsh seemed to have liked while they were here. It makes the hour go by faster, you go and join your friends on the couch once you’re done. And it’s just in time for Sanguin to make it to the village.

Unfortunately, by then the Three boy is visible. Sanguin catches sight of him, he sees her, and suddenly a hunt has begun. The boy ducks out, disappearing into an alleyway, Sanguin doesn’t waste time running after him. Even with the state that the boy is in, he still manages to move quickly. There’s no doubt that it’s adrenaline.

He’s weaponless, might even be hopeless when it comes to defending off Sanguin. If he can lose her in the maze of houses and find a good hiding spot inside of one, you’re sure that she’d have a harder time finding him. She’s already seen him, so there’s no point in thinking that she won’t just go ahead and search. She’s got plenty of time on her hands, and no motivation to go back to the cornucopia just yet.

He’s more awake, running but not running. He’s trying not to be loud, but Sanguin is following him without a problem. He turns a corner, she follows it moments later. It’ll take more than just running to get away from her, and it doesn’t look like he has any other option than to run. He’s going to get tired eventually, all Sanguin will have to do is outlast him. 

Well, Three doesn’t even get that far. He’s getting reckless with swinging his foot around corners, trying to cut them. One bad move from him, and he’s sprawled across the dirt, a cloud of dust getting kicked up because of how hard he hits the dirt. As if that weren’t bad enough, he starts coughing, gasping to breathe. It doesn’t take a genius to know he has asthma. No wonder why he was having a hard time breathing quietly while he was running.

Sanguin comes around, sword swinging off of her shoulder. It clips the wall next to her, a chunk of cement goes flying. She pays no attention, eyes on the boy. His face is red from running, he’s got his shoulders pressed to the dirt but his head has risen enough to see Sanguin. He watches her come closer, not moving.

She doesn’t say anything to him, just lifts the sword and swings. You all watch in silence, prepared for it to be a quick death, but then he rolls out of the way. The sword hits the dirt, he wraps his foot around the back of her ankle, lifts, and she fails to catch herself before falling.

He’s smart, scrambles to his feet and takes off as fast as he can. It’s not quick, though. Sanguin is tired of the running, she gets out of the alleyway, and then throws her sword diagonally. It’s over for the boy, then. He can’t see the sword coming, which means he can’t move out of the way. The blade flies right into his back, next to his spine. 

Blood splatters against the wall in front of him, he collapses face-first into the dirt. Sanguin takes her time going over there, now. You imagine that if he hadn’t run in the first place, he wouldn’t have suffered like he is now. Gloss gets up from where he sits, heading to get the sponsor gift in life, three and a half hours later. Sanguin grabs the hilt of the sword, lifts, and then slams the tip through the back of the boy’s head. 

One cannon, ten tributes left in the games. Three in the cornucopia, seven in the woods. Annie and Marsh should move soon.

Sanguin gets her healing cream, which is paired with a bottle of water. Sanguin sits against the wall where she killed the Three boy, trying to catch her breath before she heads back. It’ll be another three hour walk, it’ll be late afternoon by the time she gets back around. 

All that’s left to do today is sit, wait, and watch. Annie and Marsh keep rationing out their food, enough to keep them energetic, but still saving some for tomorrow. They spend their time setting up extra snares, lower down into the woods as a backup just in case tomorrow is an empty day too.

District Two stays in the cornucopia, they’ve got food and water, they’ll last until tomorrow. The Nine girl is eating some berries she found in a bush, which makes you all think that she’s in the forest, but Enobaria points out that there’s bushes near the village too. However, that means she’s pretty far into the village, and it’s not completely cleared yet. And that just doesn’t seem likely. And since the Nine girl is resourceful, she’s found other ways to get water.

The Seven tributes eat soft bark off of the trees, sticking to their stick and leaf covers. They seem like they’ve adjusted to the woods pretty fine, talk about a stereotype. If they weren’t cliched before, they are now. The Eight girl has made it to the stream, she drinks water out of her hands, splashes her face and sits there for a while.

Five boy has found his own source of water, he’s on the verge of being exposed, though. If you were standing by the outside tail of the cornucopia–as the mouth is facing the field–he’d be on the far left. Which isn’t a bad place to be, since the right is pretty crowded with people because of the stream of water. But it makes for a problem because he’s still seeable. 

The tributes left right now seem to be the ones that know what they’re doing. If you die in the bloodbath, clearly you have no common sense. The four that died in the village were straight unlucky, but it was ultimately inevitable because the careers were hunting. They’re going to kill more tributes after the bloodbath. And it was also lucky that they came across that many tributes.

Six boy was too smart for his own good with trying to run away. He couldn’t have known that there would be a barrier like that at the side of the arena, so he’s not really the one to blame here. And Three boy might have been the only stupid tribute that was left because of how long he waited out getting water. Plus, he was probably pretty hungry by then too. He almost had Sanguin, but then again he wouldn’t have made it very far anyway.

With all the tributes in their own spots, away from each other and hours away from any conflict, you think that it’s calm enough to go out and get food real quick. You know a place just down the street. Of course, you’re nervous to leave the betting room, every single year that you mentor, you stay just in case anything happens. Even if you’re hungry, or thirsty, or need to use the bathroom, you stick it through.

On your way out, you invite Cecelia to go with. She declines at first, but when she sees that her girl tribute is doing fine, she comes along. You introduce Finnick and Cecelia, and then explain yesterday’s events to him so that he understands why you know her. Afterwards, she’s telling the story of Haymitch’s games so it all makes sense to him.

The restaurant has tv’s set up so that you’re able to see if anything happens. And with choosing a table by the door, it makes for a quick and easy escape if need be. You enjoy yourselves in the meantime, sharing food and making predictions as always. With Cecelia added, her experience with the past games is actually pretty insightful.

The only problem is that she’s the last winning tribute of her district, so she doesn’t know what to do when it comes to training tributes exactly. Her mentioning that was probably the worst idea ever, because suddenly you, Gloss and Enobaria are giving her different pieces of advice. Eventually she has to start writing down what you guys say because it’s too much to remember.

She can’t get a boarding school started, so instead she’ll just have to work her ass off during the Capitol week. Districts One and Two have been established for years, so their advice is a little harder to understand. But since District Four has just recently gotten on their own two feet, you’re able to relate to her level. Cecelia is genuinely grateful, and she never stops thanking you guys for the help.

This time around, you pay for lunch since Gloss paid last time. Since your tributes hadn’t been up to anything important, you don’t have to rush back to the betting room. Sanguin should be arriving at the cornucopia in the next few minutes, Annie and Marsh are exploring further to the right, away from where everyone is currently. And Eight girl–whose name is actually Bauhinia, after the flower–was up against the dam.

It’s four in the afternoon when you get back, and it’s only an hour later when the Capitol people begin to leave. Annie and Marsh make their way home to the shack, the careers make up and apologize to each other. Sanguin tells Vanilee and Geare that she was the one that set off the cannon, she couldn’t tell who it was though, only that it was one of the guys and definitely not Marsh.

By seven, only a couple of Capitol people are still around. You, Enobaria, Gloss, Finnick and Cecelia sit around a table talking to each other. At least you’re friendly with Cecelia now, you’re not sure how that’s going to hold up next year. But then again, she’s used to her tributes dying in the arena. After a while, it’s hard to hold a grudge. Unfortunately, that might mean she’ll end up like Haymitch in a couple of years.

For a while, Enobaria and Gloss play the same get-to-know-you game that they played with Finnick, with Cecelia. You end up learning a lot about her and the district that she’s from this way. It makes for interesting conversation when Enobaria asks her the weirdest way that Cecelia can probably kill someone, and she says a sewing needle.

Which only starts hypothetical situations in which you all are back inside of the Hunger Games, and have to get creative with items to use to kill people. Rocks, tree bark, water, dirt. Enobaria says that she genuinely considered shoving a tributes face in the dirt and holding them there until they died.

“Wouldn’t they just be able to move their mouth off to the side?” you ask, feeling a little ridiculous for asking the question in the first place.

“I don’t think so.” Enobaria says, “They’d be face down.”

“No, (Y/n) has a point.” Gloss shakes his head.

“Do you want to test it out?” Enobaria gives him a look.

“Is there any dirt nearby?” Gloss asks back, “Because I bet a thousand that I’m right.”

“Oh, you’re on.” she says, looking behind her. 

There’s a planters box on the far side of the betting room. Enobaria and Gloss get up and go over, which means that you, Finnick and Cecelia follow. Gloss gladly hops over the cement wall that keeps the dirt inside, and lays down face-first as nonchalantly as possible. He looks awkward doing it.

“Alright, if you feel like you’re dying, just kick your feet and I might let you go.” she says, sitting on his back.

“I won’t call uncle.”

“You will eventually.” she says, and then shoves his face into the dirt.

While Enobaria tries to kill Gloss with one of the five elements, Cecelia talks, “I used to do stuff like this with the other mentors, but that was a while ago.”

“You’re welcome to join us any time, Cecelia.” you give her a polite smile, “Even in future games. We can’t really blame the tributes for killing each other, everyone wants to survive.”

Well, the careers–including District Four this year–all do it to themselves on purpose for the fame and money. With the other districts, they typically have no choice and they’re the ones being picked during the reaping. But you get what you’re saying, right?

“Thanks.” Cecelia says, and then looks to Finnick, “Haven’t seen you in a while, how are you doing?”

It’s friendly conversation, you listen as Finnick tells her that he’s been busy. She doesn’t pry, taking his word for it. It’s better that way, you’re not sure what he’d say if she did ask, anyway. Finnick’s still got a hand on you, too. You guess that the very last people inside of the betting room aren’t all that great. Otherwise you’re sure he would’ve let you go by now.

“Are you dead yet?” Enobaria asks.

“I’ve been breathing the entire time.” Gloss says, and then he starts coughing and spitting because of the dirt in his mouth. Enobaria gets off of him, he closes his mouth and grits his teeth, and you can literally hear the crunch of the dirt between his teeth.

“Oh,” you laugh, covering your mouth, “Gross.”

Everyone is laughing, Gloss struggles to find a glass of some sort of liquid to wash it out of his mouth. There’s dirt down his shirt and pants, and it’s even ruined his clothes to some extent. When he’s finally able to rinse and spit the dirt out, he looks at Enobaria, “As long as they don’t speak and breathe through their nose, I’m sure they’d be able to survive.”

It’s a good way to wrap up the night, so you hug your three friends goodnight just in time for Cashmere and Wade to come around. Back on the Four floor, for the first time in a while, you’re actually able to eat with both Elysia and Finnick. You don’t talk much with each other, just tell Elysia what you had done today.

After dinner, Elysia goes to her room, leaving you and Finnick alone.

“You should go back down there.” you tell him.

“I’m not.” Finnick says, and you let out a sigh, “(Y/n), you can’t be down there. As nice as it probably is to be with them–did you even notice the way they were looking at you.”

“Finnick, I’ll be last week’s news by the time the new victor is announced. I’m not going to be the center of attention for much longer.” 

“Except to some extent, you’ve been in their sights for a while now.” he shakes his head, “I used to hear things about you while we weren’t talking. And I thought it was all lies and rumors until I got to see it for myself.” his voice is surprisingly calm, eyes on you, “They’re mistaking your friendliness for flirtation. You’re laying it on too thick, and it’s confusing them.”

You open your mouth, and then close it.

“I would rather you take the night shift, so I can take the daytime. But I know that you won’t let that happen so we’re going to have to compromise.”

Still being hung up on the flirting thing, you nod slowly, “What are you thinking?”

“You go from afternoon into most of the night, I take late night into early morning.” he raises his eyebrows, “Sometimes evenings if I think I can handle it.”

It makes the most sense, “Okay, yeah.”

“Yeah?” he lets out a breath, “That was easy.”

And once he thinks that, he’s suddenly squinting at you, “You’re not going to backstab me, are you?”

You squint back at him, “Unlike you, I’m a respectable human being.”

He laughs, “Respectable! You nearly killed me in the elevator.”

“And you would’ve deserved it, don’t even fucking lie.” you roll your eyes.

“Maybe a little bit.” Finnick admits.


	7. Chapter 7

It turns out that you’ve worked yourself to the bone all these years. Day after day, you woke at seven, left at eight, and stayed in the betting room until late evening into the early morning. You didn’t realize just how taxing it was until now. For the first time in a long time, you’ve gotten more than just a couple of hours of sleep. You slept into noon.

This must be how Finnick felt for those years. He could, more or less, go to bed when he wants and wake well into the afternoon. And although the whole day isn’t up to your interpretation, you’ve had your fair share of evenings with friends. To think that he used to live like this every day, while you were busy worrying over tributes, or pushing yourself to the brink of exhaustion is unfair.

And for a moment, you can allow yourself to be upset at him and yourself for letting it go on for so long. Finnick’s time in the Capitol is far from fun and perfect, but you still hate how he wasn’t required to do all the same things you are. That he didn’t put in as much effort as you have. Even if you two weren’t talking…

You count to three and let it go. 

You think you can stop being mad about this now. To you, it looks like things have changed. Of course, you can keep your guard, but you can stop talking about it. You already know all the shitty things that he’s done, he knows it too. With that acknowledgement, you can save the thoughts for a rainy day.

You get out of bed at noon, dragging your feet around the room. It’s funny how you’ve kept that wake, eat, watch, sleep schedule for this long, and it was so easily broken. You thought that you’d have to fight with yourself to sleep in past seven, considering that some habits are hard to break. Yet here you are, sluggish. You suppose that more sleep doesn’t automatically mean being more energetic.

Not trying to be too slow, you only take a ten minute shower instead of your normal thirty. Finnick’s been in the betting room since midnight last night, it’s going to be a full thirteen hours by the time you go to switch with him. He’s running on fumes, he hasn’t slept in a day, if you remember correctly. The sooner you get down there, the better.

Not to mention, like nights, the mornings are extremely boring. As you’ve observed for the last couple of days–and years–the tributes are up to nothing. In the morning, they’re either still sleeping or getting ready to spend their day doing mundane shit. At nights, the careers might go hunting for obvious tributes, or they’re all going to bed. 

On one hand, you think that this is good for Finnick. Like you’ve said before, he’s not as practiced during chaotic situations inside of the betting room anyway. The last time he saw anything remotely close to that was maybe yesterday, when you were going around talking to Capitol people. But that wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been.

You’re talking about the times where you’ve been in full-blown mentor mode. Quick on your feet, even faster problem solving, a silver tongue that easily has mentors falling on your feet. The only times you’re like that is when there’s an unpredictable fight that includes your tributes. You’re here for damage control, so anything that your tributes do inside of the arena, you’re going to be there to try and clean up what they can’t. Whether that be injuries, them losing all of their stuff, sponsoring weapons in the midst of a fight, whatever.

But on the other hand, he’s just out of practice. If he took afternoons instead of you–fat fucking chance–he would be able to go right back to how he was before. It’s like flexing a muscle, all your instincts are still there, you just have to relearn a few moves to make the whole job easier.

And you’re all about easy.

You go for black skinny jeans and a yellow-orange shirt with a breast pocket, and then slip on a pair of tennis shoes. As always, you’re the only one in the dining room, so you’re free to watch the television as you eat lunch. The avox serves plum and lamb soup, with a side of jasmine rice to make it more filling. You thank him quietly, already distracted by what’s going on the screen.

Without any context, you slowly put the pieces together by yourself. Starting with your tributes, Annie and Marsh are already off near the snares. They’re currently having lunch too, eating the sponsored food that you gave them yesterday. The gamemakers are allowing you to hear their conversation for the first time in days.

The gist is that Annie wants to go up to the dam. Like, follow the stream of water to the top and inspect the dam for herself. The condition of the cement will hopefully determine when they should leave the shack and head towards the village. But they’re working through one step at a time. Getting to the village is a whole new problem, as far as she’s concerned. Marsh agrees.

The Seven tributes are at the stream getting water, with the boy cupping his hands and bringing water to his lips that way. They’ve still got no supplies from the cornucopia, looking pretty dirty from sleeping in leaves and dirt for the past couple of days. They still look healthy though, so that’s a good sign. They’re getting all the nutrients that they need, to a certain extent.

Five boy is still on the edge of the woods off to the left, far away from the rest of the tributes. He’s not as close to the treeline as he was yesterday. If he keeps there for a while, you’re sure that he’ll surely be overlooked and hard to find like Nine girl. Who, speaking of which, is actually on the move today, instead of just sticking around in the grass and bushes.

She’s got her hair tied out of her face, any loose strands are tucked behind her ears if it can reach. She’s walking through the grass, heading towards the cornucopia. You think it’s a stupid idea, that surely she’s going to get herself killed for being so calm about walking straight into a wild pack of careers.

Until you look to see where the careers are this morning, and find that they’re inside of the woods. The cornucopia is completely vacant, all their supplies are there for a tribute’s taking. Nine girl saw this and decided to take a chance and grab what she can. Which means that she’s been camping out in the grassy hills the entire time, or she was in the trees after all. Either way, she’s kept a pretty low profile since the beginning. This is going to give her a new spotlight to work with.

She heads right inside without hesitation, not even waiting to hear if there’s any voices. Yeah, she’s definitely been keeping track of the tributes in the sky, and even going as far as to watch the cornucopia in her freetime. Especially if she’s so forward and confident. Considering she’s spent the last couple of days cloud gazing, this is fairly impressive.

She grabs a backpack, vaguely going through boxes and only stopping long enough to grab handfuls of items. She moves on quickly, eyes sometimes flickering to the mouth of the cornucopia. At least she’s not stupid enough to entirely rely on what she saw a couple of minutes ago. She knows that going inside is completely risky.

By judging what you can see with the careers, she has nothing to worry about in the end. The careers are far into the woods, and they’re only getting farther. In fact, the only tributes you think that have to worry about what they’re doing is the Seven tributes. In your opinion, they could be moving a little quicker.

If the careers do run across District Seven, this’ll be the first real conflict since the bloodbath. Of course, Sanguin killing Three boy yesterday was an event, but he didn’t really stand a chance against her in the first place. That was banking on false hope. With the Seven tributes, they might not have weapons, but they’re also two people. Just like Annie and Marsh. They have a chance, you always have a chance with bigger numbers. Where one person fails, another will prevail.

Nine girl grabs a knife on her way out of the cornucopia, officially heading towards the woods. She should’ve just went straight towards the village, that way she wouldn’t have the chance of running across the other nine people that are currently in the forest. This is all dependent on her goals, you suppose, but no one willingly tries to pick a fight unless they’re a career. It’s just the truth.

The last tribute that you haven’t mentioned is Bauhinia, Cecelia’s girl. Bauhinia already has a backpack of her own, courtesy of the raid she had conducted on the cornucopia by herself on the second day of the games. She’s got a bottle full of water, so that means she’s found her own source by now. 

Actually, she’s been up against the dam for the past couple of days. Which means that the dam is leaking from some area, otherwise she wouldn’t have the water up that high. Not without a second stream, and from all the time you’ve spent watching the tributes, she hasn’t been to the original water stream.

Well, the dam is certainly more dangerous than you originally anticipated. It’s only the fifth day of the games and it’s already leaking water. You give it a couple more days until the entire thing blows. You keep saying a week and a half, you’re not sure it’ll even last the half part. The gamemakers are impatient this year. Or maybe they have no control of it. Either way, everyone is going to be going home sooner than usual.

With the hopeful exception of District Four, of course.

At any rate, Bauhinia is moving through the trees too. She has a knife in hand, which means that she’s looking for something or someone in particular. You’d say she’s just hunting, but there’s an edge to her steps. You bet that Cecelia is on the edge of her seat right now. Her only tribute is up to no good.

You finish up lunch, go to the bathroom to brush your teeth, and leave the apartment. On your way down to the betting room, you hope that whatever Bauhinia is planning, she’s not going to act on it just yet. She needs to wait a little longer. If something does happen, Cecelia’s going to need a shoulder to lean on.

When you enter, you see that Finnick sits on the couch, elbow on the arm, leaning against his fist. Gloss and Enobaria are with him, with Gloss leaned forward onto his knees and Enobaria with her arms crossed. The only person that seems to be standing in your bizarre group, is Cecelia. Who’s swaying from side to side, hand on her mouth.

Looks like they’re all just as captivated as you were when you were watching. You check up on the Morning Line Odds, which might as well be known as the Afternoon Line Odds, with the times you’ll be showing up from now on. Annie and Marsh still hold their odds at 6-1, they haven’t moved since the first day, that’s just fine with you. As long as they don’t drop lower, they’ve still got the interest of the Capitol.

As for the only group that actually poses a meaningful threat, Sanguine has moved up. From a 4-1 to a 3-1, she’s now tied with the boy from Two. You’re not surprised, it was only a matter of time before she went up—before any of them moved, actually. It’s worrying, though. No matter how many times you’ve seen it before.

You stop next to Finnick, staring up at the screen. In the time it took you to brush your teeth and get down here, things have changed. The gamemakers have focused on Bauhinia and the careers, so it explains why everyone—with the exception of Finnick, who sounds like he’s sleeping—is on edge. Doesn’t mean you have any clue what’s going on.

You take a moment to analyze what you see. Bauhinia still has her knife in hand, moving through the trees. It looks like she’s trying to be quiet, carefully placing her feet in spots that shouldn’t be possible. All to just narrowly avoid a stick that might give her away. Give her away…

The careers are also going through the woods, but their camera is angled weird. Instead of watching them from the front, so that you can see their faces. Or from the back, allowing you to see where they’re going exactly. It’s at a diagonal, barely catching One girl, who’s leading the pack through the woods. The main is One boy, who’s in the middle, but even he’s a little blurred.

Oh.

Oh!

“Oh!” You let out, causing your friends to jump at the sudden voice. They’ve been quiet for so long, you just snuck up on them, “Is Bauhinia stalking?”

Stalking, a term mentors use when one tribute is following another. Normally because the stalker has ill intentions, or they’re observing for future reference. It’s like when the Seven tributes followed the careers all the way to the stream of water and didn’t attack. Observing. 

But Bauhinia isn’t observing. She’s got a knife in her hands, she’s making an extra effort to be closer, to hear their conversations. She’s moving right along with them, waiting for a perfect moment to strike. Bauhinia isn’t stupid enough to attack all three of them, she’s waiting for an opportunity to pick one off.

You wonder what got her to think like this, to suddenly get up and decide that she wanted to risk her life. She isn’t specially trained in any way regarding fighting, Cecelia said it herself. And if you remember correctly, she only scored a six. The Morning Line Odds say that she has a 14-1 chance. She’s going to get herself killed.

“Yeah, she has been for a while now. She only just got closer.” Gloss says, looking over you, and then his eyes land on Finnick, “He’s been out cold since nine.”

Well, you more or less called it, even before you got down here. She looked slightly more relaxed the last time you saw her, but now she has to be more careful with how she’s putting herself in danger like this. One bad move can be the cost of her life, unlike before when she had a little bit of breathing room. She must’ve been loosely following.

As for Finnick, you’re not at all surprised. You gently place your hand on his back, rubbing slightly to wake him up. It takes a moment, reminding you of the last time you woke him up like this. He doesn’t stretch this time around, mostly makes a noise and raises his head.

“What time is it?” He yawns, and sinks into the couch, “Is she here yet?”

“A little after one.” You answer.

Finnick looks up at you, and lets out a sigh of relief. He must be exhausted, probably won’t even last a minute on his bed before he’s knocked out. You give him a smile, pat his shoulder, and take a seat between him and Gloss. There’s not much room, but you can imagine that Finnick won’t be staying here much longer.

“Annie and Marsh are doing fine.” Finnick yawns again, crossing his arms and staring at the tv, “The last time I checked, anyway. Which was…”

Enobaria lets out a laugh. Gloss snorts and finishes his sentence; “Five hours ago.”

Finnick vaguely motions to Gloss. “What’s happening now?”

“Flower girl is looking for trouble.” Enobaria says, “She’s like, ten feet from them at max.”

Finnick squints, humming slightly, “I’d head up but I have a feeling I should stay down here.”

“Probably.” You agree, “You can use my shoulder as a pillow if you want.”

Without missing a beat, he takes you up on your offer. He places his head on your shoulder, and only lifts it once to readjust. You smile a little to yourself, but it quickly fades when the betting room is suddenly filled with unfamiliar voices coming from the speakers.

Two girl–Vanilee–has a kama in her hand, which is surely a unique choice of a weapon. It’s not chosen often, mostly because of its range. Think of a scythe, with the curved blade and all, just with a shorter handle. It’s much better for hand-to-hand combat, you think. It’s not going to be much use for long distances, unless you were to throw it. Then again, you’re no expert. You don’t even remember seeing that in your cornucopia.

The sixty-fifth Hunger Games had all the classic weapons. Spears, tridents, bows, axes, swords, scythes and knives. You chose a knife and a sword, obviously. As most careers do, since they’re the easiest things to figure out. The only problem is trying to find a sword that isn’t too heavy, a knife with a blade that isn’t too short, bullshit like that.

Anyway, Vanilee is stopped, eyes searching the woods around her. Bauhinia is perfectly hidden behind bushes, not only crouched but also blending in. It’s understandable why the careers haven’t seen her by now, even with their experienced eyes. At least they caught on that the air was weird or whatever, but you can’t give them that much credit in the end, especially if Bauhinia has been following them for a while now.

Yeah, for a bunch of people that have been practically trained to think a certain way and catch onto situations, they’re not very in-tune with their sixth senses. Literally, even a hint of a gut feeling and you’re going to be searching around. Hell, you even did that yourself! The pond on the first day is the perfect example of this.

“What is it?” Sanguin asks, impatient.

“I swear that there’s someone following us.” Vanilee says, moving her hair behind her neck.

“Like who?” her district mate, Geare, asks.

Vanilee shrugs, not giving it up. She ventures out a little bit, squinting and searching. She won’t find anything, you’re sure of it. With the way that Bauhinia has placed herself, she’s in the best position she can be in. Except for the part where one career has caught on to her stalking. That’s the only bad news. Where one will go, the others will eventually follow.

“She’s just paranoid.” Sanguin says, stabbing her sword into the ground and leaning on it like a cane, “I think I would know if we were being followed.”

Vanilee’s eyes land on Sanguin, “Okay, genius. Don’t you think that it’s weird we haven’t run into any tributes yet?” she raises her eyebrows, shakes her head like she’s waiting for an answer, neither Geare or Sanguin says anything, “That’s what I thought. Maybe my paranoia will do something for us.”

Sanguin sighs, eyes rolling into the back of her head like a teenage girl. She runs a hand through her hair, and then slaps her thigh when she lets it fall, “Fine, let’s take a break. Whoever it is will have to move at some point. We’ll hear or see them, problem solved.”

Hypothetically, yes. But you watch as Bauhinia slowly sinks herself to the ground, crossing her legs. She’s lucky that her backpack doesn’t make any noise, otherwise she definitely would’ve been found by now. For a while, the careers all sit there, drinking water and eating a small portion of food to keep them going. So far, their hunt for other tributes has been a bust. What a surprise.

However, Vanilee signs her own death certificate when she says that she’s going off to pee. She’s told to stay nearby in the case that someone is around them. Sanguin even offers to go with her, it just leaves Geare by himself, though. It still leaves a problem, two of them can go one way, the other can stay back, or Vanilee can just go by herself. In the end, one person will get picked off.

The moment that Vanilee heads off, Bauhinia slowly and carefully begins to follow her. Cecelia has finally taken a seat on the edge of an armchair, fingers intertwined and pressed against her lips. Enobaria is shaking her head, upset that Vanilee can’t just pee in front of her alliance. It’s a stupid situation. And it’s almost rightful what Vanilee gets for it.

The good news is that Vanilee isn’t stupid enough to get out of earshot. If she were to scream, the others would hear. It would take them a moment to get to her, but at least they’re close enough if the situation were to arise. The bad news is that it doesn’t matter, not with the way that Bauhinia springs on Vanilee.

Really, Bauhinia doesn’t fuck around. She wraps her arm around Vanilee’s neck in an armlock, and then uses her other hand to tighten the hold. She has the same face of determination that everyone else gets when they’re trying to kill and survive in the Hunger Games. 

Vanilee digs her nails into Bauhinia’s tan skin, hard enough to draw blood. This is the reason why Bauhinia lets go, clutching the spot. She lands a kick to Vanilee’s back, making her trip and go sprawling in the dirt and grass. Vanilee opens her mouth, drawing in a long breath of air, clearly going to scream.

Bauhinia’s on top of her, disregarding the blood running down her forearm. A squeak leaves Vanilee’s lips, just before Bauhinia’s fingers are tight around her neck, squeezing hard. Vanilee’s eyes widen, face quickly turning a shade of red as she struggles to breathe. First her fingers try to wriggle their way beneath Bauhinia’s hands, but then they settle for scratching down her neck and face, trying to inflict enough pain to get Bauhinia to get off.

It’s hard to watch, you can feel the pressure on your own stomach and hips, hands growing harder and tighter around your neck as you give up. As you slowly stop coming up with solutions to get out of the hold, as you forget the one way the training expert told you to leave a situation like this.

You reach for your throat, rubbing the spot where Lennox was sure he’d be able to cut off your air supply. You swallow thickly, “I don’t know if I can do this.”

You get a confused glance from Gloss, and Finnick hums quietly. 

It’s the sensation of being trapped, not being able to escape. This happens all the time, especially with people hovering over you, even if it’s a joke. If you can’t have an easy escape, then it’s a cause for trouble. Even watching people not be able to leave, especially in a situation like this–

You take a deep breath through your nose, and hold. 

Vanilee is turning blue, still fighting to escape. Bauhinia’s got red scratch marks all over her, some even bleeding slightly, blood running down her skin. She’s patient, and doesn’t at all seem to be concerned about the other careers. Not even worried that they might come looking for her if she doesn’t make it back soon.

You let out your air slowly, feeling nauseous.

“Are you alright?” Finnick asks.

“Still not over it.” is all you say, Finnick lifts his head up. You glance over to see that his eyes are open now, staring at the screen.

“Yeah, I can see why. Look away, I’ll tell you when it’s done.”

“Thanks.” you breathe, placing your head on the couch, staring at the sky. Well, the sky through the glass ceiling. There’s no way that the architects would ever let a place like this fall victim to something so heinous like rain.

“You went through something like this?” Gloss asks.

“Something similar.” Finnick says, he lets out a sigh, “And then got stabbed right after. To be fair, she was beat to hell in that fight. It was hardly fair.”

“But she got revenge, if I remember right.” Enobaria says, “(Y/n) single handedly killed three out of four of the career tributes.”

“Actually, I wouldn’t even count one of them, that was mostly mutts.” you say.

“It counts. I remember it counting.” Enobaria says.

It’s quiet for a moment, “Okay, it should be done.”

Right on time for you to look at the screen, a cannon blasts. Bauhinia releases Vanilee, stretching her fingers outwards, staring at her hands for a moment, like she can’t believe she’s done it. The moment that Vanilee’s name is yelled, Bauhinia is up and off of her, sprinting up towards the dam. It’s not very smart of her, she should be going downhill, or at least running the way she came for a while to put distance between her and the others, and then move downward diagonally.

Finnick goes back to putting his head on your shoulder. Enobaria has her jaw set, shaking her head. You can’t blame her, Vanilee was a trained volunteer. She got a nine on her training score, while Bauhinia landed herself a six, if you remember correctly. Even Vanilee had the feeling that there was something wrong, and she still went out by herself.

Two careers left in the game, though. It’s satisfying to see a second name greyed out on the Morning Line Odds. One less career for Annie and Marsh to worry about. If they were to go out and try and attack them now, you’re sure that it would be more than a fair fight. The only threat left is One girl. Sanguin.

Speaking of which, she’s running up towards where Vanilee lies in the dirt, red-purple hand marks bright around her neck. Geare is right behind her, weapon already displayed. At the pace that Bauhinia is going at the moment, you don’t think that he’ll have the chance to use it. But then again, the careers always bounce back in some unpredictable way.

Sanguin is quick, leaving Geare completely behind her, “Vanilee?” she yells.

She’s more or less making the same mistake that got Vanilee killed by leaving Geare behind her. Although, you all know that she can take care of herself in a fight. In fact, unlike Vanilee, Sanguin probably would’ve found a way to get out from underneath Bauhinia. Whether it be from the same way you did it, through momentum. Or some other unique tactic.

You’re not saying that Vanilee didn’t try, she definitely did. The marks up and down Bauhinia’s face and arms says so. The problem was that it wasn’t enough. But to be fair, there’s not much you can do in a situation like that in the first place. She was underprepared, caught off-guard without the opportunity to catch her breath and evaluate the situation before Bauhinia was back on her.

However, Bauhinia’s quick movement saved her. Just before Vanilee went to scream, Bauhinia cut off her vocals to make it impossible. And it’s not like she could’ve done much to stop the scratching, she needed both hands and all of her weight to put pressure on Vanilee’s neck.

Anyway, you think you’ll stop now. You’re beginning to struggle again.

All that matters is that it’s one less career in the arena, one more rung up the ladder. Gloss and Enobaria both have one tribute left before they’re sent home, which is actually pretty good news. It’s only been five years, but that’s ten tributes dead from District Four. Annie and Marsh can turn the tide, create a new era for Four in this decade. 

Gloss is sat back now too, his hands resting on his thighs. Cecelia is digging her thumb nail into her other palm, clearly worried over Bauhinia. The clock is ticking down for Bauhinia, she got a headstart away from the remaining two careers, but now she’s started a real hunt for herself. The careers will either give up, or work themselves to the bone for revenge. And they never let anyone off easy.

Sanguin slows down when she sees a body, she doesn’t stop until she’s standing over Vanilee. Her sword was originally raised, now it’s tip-down into the grass. She sighs heavily, “Motherfucker.”

Geare appears behind her a couple of seconds later, paling immensely when he sees what used to be his district mate. He freezes in place, Sanguin shakes her head, points the tip of the sword at Vanilee’s throat, “She was strangled.” and then looks up to the woods around her, “Whoever did it has to be nearby.”

“Not if they ran.” Geare manages.

“Then we fucking chase them.”

Gloss breaks the silence between you guys, “Sanguin is an excellent tracker. All she has to do is find Bauhinia’s trail.”

Spells for even more trouble, more than just for Bauhinia. Annie and Marsh have been walking the same path everyday for five days. By now, they’ve stomped their schedule into the grass and dirt. If the careers were to just barely run across their shack, all they’d have to do is follow your tributes’ path to their snares. After that, their field of snares is gone for.

You let out a breath, running a hand through your hair before sinking a bit. 

“The careers won’t wander upstream.” Finnick murmurs.

“They will if Bauhinia leads them up.” you whisper back, “You think that they’ll head back down?”

“If they’re smart they’ll leave the woods after they find her.”

“Fat chance, the careers are hound dogs. They caught the scent of one tribute, they’re going to be bloodthirsty for more.” you close your eyes, “I think it’s time for another sponsor gift.”

“The gamemakers will get suspicious. You’ve said so yourself a long ass time ago.”

He’s right. Annie and Marsh aren’t hurt or starving, sending another gift out of the blue would turn heads. Either you start hoping that one of them gets injured badly enough to need something other than healing cream, or you just have to let fate have her way with the arena. Which is hard to do, considering all the other times she’s screwed you over.

“This is their games.” Finnick reminds you, “Not ours. We’re in no control here.”

“I just want to help.” you say.

“I know. We just have to wait.”

Even though Gloss didn’t directly predict it, Sanguin goes around looking for a path to follow and finds the way that Bauhinia had run, “Grab her kama, let’s go.” she says, and then starts walking down the path.

Geare lets out a shaky breath at first, uttering out an apology. He takes the weapon and heads off after his only ally. It’s only slightly funny how Vanilee was the one acting a buffer between them, and now they’re having to work together. They start off walking, but end up jogging the longer they go on.

“I will not lose them.” Sanguin snarls.

Bauhinia isn’t running anymore, there’s sweat running down her face, she wipes her forehead to get the sweat from going into her eyes, and ends up smearing blood. She’s near the top of the hill, you can see the dam through the trees. She’s going to corner herself, there’s no doubt about it.

If she’s not careful, you think she could actually end up running the careers straight into the Seven tributes. It’s unlikely, you think. But if she runs along the dam, maybe a little downwards, it’ll bring her to their huts. They’re not at them right now, you don’t think. They do have to come back eventually, though.

Bauhinia huffs, sucks in air through her nose heavily. She winces when she stretches the skin in her neck and face, gently pressing her hand to the marks as if it’ll magically relieve the pain. She closes her eyes, takes another deep breath, and then takes off running again, not heading uphill, off to the right side.

Oh, that’s not good. 

“She’s going to lead them to Annie and Marsh.”

“You don’t know that.” Finnick says, but he’s lifted his head.

“She leads them to the stream, all they’d have to do is head half a mile down and they’re at the shack. They take up home there, and District Four is fucked.”

“She’s bringing them into uncharted territory. The careers are going to be more apprehensive–”

And all at once, you, Gloss and Enobaria answer the same way; “No, they’re not.”

On any other day, the unison would be funny. But Enobaria just lost a tribute, Gloss is worried about Sanguin heading in recklessly without thinking first, and Cecelia might lose her second tribute. The stakes have definitely risen today.

The chase continues for hours. You watch as people come and go out of the betting room, all wary about leaving when something so important is happening. None of you move from the couch area, except to stretch your legs if they fall asleep. Finnick dozes on and off, waking on his own every now and then.

Bauhinia is running them in circles at this point, zig-zagging. She ran towards the stream for a little while before heading straight down the hill, then decided that was an easy way to catch her, so she took a sharp right to head back to where she killed Vanilee. The body has been collected already, it was collected as soon as they had all cleared out of the space.

Annie and Marsh have just now started their way back, thankfully. It’ll be sundown in two to three hours, which will then give Bauhinia better cover. Gloss said that it’s going to be shitty to try and track in the dark. It’ll definitely slow Sanguin and Geare down, and by then Bauhinia will be long gone.

“It won’t last that long, though.” Gloss said, “Bauhinia’s getting tired. Sanguin and Geare have been forced to work hard like this for hours. It’s only a matter of time.”

He was only saying what all of you were thinking.

Finnick goes from his head resting on the back of the couch, to placing it on your shoulder. You reach up and behind to rub his hair slightly, “You’re going to have a kink in your neck if you keep this up.”

“I’m literally exhausted.”

“Then go up to your room, you’re going to be miserable tonight.” you say, he hums.

“You think Annie and Marsh will be fine?”

“I can take care of them, if not.”

He sighs, “Okay.” Finnick gets up from the couch, yawning loudly and stretching his arms above his head. He gives one last look to the screen before looking at the others, “Good luck.”

“See you later, Finnick.” Gloss nods. Enobaria waves, Cecelia thanks him for his company.

Just before he goes, he leans on the arm of the couch, staring down at you, “I might sleep through dinner.”

“I’ll go and get you, don’t worry about it.” you smile, “Go sleep.”

“Thanks.”

He leaves, and as soon as he’s through the door, Enobaria snorts slightly. You and Gloss look at her, “There’s totally a thing between you two.”

“Okay, fuck off.” you wave your hand, “You have other things to be worrying about.”

“Yeah, and what’s that?” Enobaria’s amused.

You raise your eyebrows tauntingly, “My tributes are going to kick Geare’s ass.”

“Ha!” Enobaria laughs, “He scored a ten!”

“And Sanguin scored a nine, yet your little boy in there’s a sheep.”

“Oh, that’s got to burn.” Gloss smiles, Enobaria socks his upper arm, barely earning a look of pain out of him.

Half an hour later, Bauhinia’s running on fumes. She’s inhaled all of her water by now and sweated it out. Every step she takes, she grimaces as if she’s got scabs on the back of her feet. It’s probably her calves burning from all the exertion. She’s completely out of breath, her face an underlying red color.

Bauhinia slowly comes to a stop, walking a little off to the side by a giant tree. She leans against it for a moment, you can imagine how awful she’s feeling at the moment. She lets go of the tree for only a moment, sways, and collapses in the grass, struggling to breathe. In a little less than two minutes, she’s hyperventilating, and it’s not exactly quiet.

Game over.

Sanguin and Geare are close behind her, both experiencing their own unique versions of exhaustion. Geare complains at least once every twenty minutes, while Sanguin just continuously hydrates, pauses, and keeps going. She might have scored a nine, but she’s got the determination of an eleven. Sanguin’s a fucking trooper.

There’s no way that Bauhinia is getting up from her spot in the grass. She has half the mind to clutch onto her knife though, knuckles a pale color from her hard she’s gripping it. It’s only ten minutes later when Sanguin and Geare are almost on top of her. Bauhinia falls silent, eyes slowly moving to where she had stopped running.

“Fucking hell.” Geare says, his voice is quiet, getting louder as they come to the spot, “Can’t fucking believe this.”

“It’s impressive.” Sanguin admits, “But they’re stupid. They could’ve at least tried to hide themselves. It’s like they didn’t even care.”

Bauhinia moves the knife around in her hand, Sanguin uses the sword to poke around at their surroundings, “I’m not seeing a path.”

“Which means?” Geare asks.

“Either they scrambled up a tree, or they’re right here.” Sanguin turns, looking at her ally, “Don’t kill them.”

“Yeah, I don’t plan on it. Not after all of this.” Geare says, they split, going two ways.

Bauhinia slips out of her backpack straps, which is smart. There’s a sick feeling in your stomach starting to arise, though. You know exactly what she’s planning, and she’s not going to get very far. She’s not the only one that can ditch a backpack and go running. 

Bauhinia tucks her knife in the leather belt, turns over onto her knees, watching through the bushes for the perfect moment to run. Geare has backtracked slightly, wanting to be thorough, just in case Bauhinia didn’t drop off there, and created a second, more invisible path. Sanguin turns her back.

You’ll give Bauhinia some credit, because not only is she arrogantly stupid, she’s also resiliant. One second, she’s standing over her black backpack, the next she’s twenty feet away from the careers already. All she had to do was quietly sneak away, but with the way she’s whipped through the bush leaves, she’s caught their attention.

“It’s a girl!” Sanguin shouts, shedding her backpack, “Give me the kama!”

Geare’s ripped it off of the backpack, completely destroying the strap that was holding it in place. Sanguin must run track in high school, because she moves through the trees like she’s running on solid ground. She doesn’t look where she’s stepping, just keeps her eyes on Bauhinia, tracking her every movement. Bauhinia moves upwards, Sanguin pushes for a diagonal path. There’s no getting out of this one.

At least Bauhinia’s running on adrenaline, otherwise you’re sure she would be some form of a corpse by now. You can’t imagine that all of this running is good on her heart. Especially when she’s probably not used to running for long periods of time.

Sanguin gets right up on her, but she knows that she won’t catch her exactly. It was smart of her to ditch her sword, since that’s heavier that shit. But it raises the question of the kama, because there’s no way she’ll know how to wield it… right?

Wrong.

Sanguin comes to a full halt, nearly throwing herself forward from how hard she stops. She draws her arm back quick enough to be a blur, and then whips it forward, the kama disappearing from her fingers. Sanguin is strong, because that fucking weapon flies through the air at twenty-five miles an hour at least. The curved blade goes right through Bauhinia’s back, sending her sprawling into the trees.

Sanguin is breathing heavily, continuing up the hill to her prey. It’s the same predatory look in her eyes that you saw in Lennox’s. The desire for sweet revenge, or the sadistic mindset of murder for enjoyment. No one who volunteers for the Hunger Games is in their right minds. You’re surprised that the districts don’t require them to go to therapy after shit like this.

Bauhinia is sobbing into the dirt, hands balled into fists. Blood has seeped through her shirt where the kama has stabbed her. Only a couple seconds later, Geare is coming up behind them both. Sanguin isn’t concerned, doesn’t even look to check. Instead, she leans down and grabs the handle of the kama, and without a single hint of remorse, yanks the weapon out of her back.

You cringe, a gag rising in your throat at how much blood comes gushing out. Bauhinia’s scream of agony is nightmare-inducing, making goosebumps raise on your arms and a chill go down your back. Forget watching her strangle Vanilee to death. This is worse. Much, much worse.

Sanguin’s covered in rich colored blood, little specks across her face like freckles. The kama is quite literally dripping in Bauhinia’s blood, landing in droplets in the dirt, grass and weeds. Bauhinia’s scream-sobbing, her back is a giant open wound, you think you can even see her spine. How the fuck is she still alive?

“Oh my god.” you breathe, pressing the back of your hand to your forehead. You feel hot, and your mouth is watering more than usual.

The Capitol finds entertainment in moments like these, and even worse, tributes like Sanguin long for murders that keep everyone on their toes. Cecelia lets out a shaky breath, sniffs, and then stands, “I can’t do it.”

“Cecelia, I’m sorry.” Gloss says.

“I’ll see you next year.” is all she says, and then she’s gone too.

A giant puddle is forming beneath Bauhinia, the stench of metal and dirt has to be strong enough to bring tears to your eyes. You remember when you cracked a head open, and immediately puked after. It’s the same thing, only yours being slightly worse.

“You’ve trained a fucking psychopath.” you get up from the couch to have something to do to take your mind off of the rising vomit in your throat.

“Yeah…” Gloss’ voice is distant.

It’s hard to watch the rest of what happens to Bauhinia. Like promised, Sanguin doesn’t let her get off easy. Bauhinia should be dead already, and yet the hits just keep coming. Sanguin’s so ruthless that Geare doesn’t even feel the need to step in, leaning against the tree with a dead-straight face, arms crossed.

Sometimes Bauhinia is able to grasp a few words, always a plea for Sanguin to stop. Otherwise, she’s gurgling blood when Sanguin hits harder. Just this morning, Sanguin’s odds had already boosted from a 4-1 to 3-1, but now they’re 1-1, Geare is 2-1. And your tributes are fucked if they ever run across these two.

By the time Bauhinia does finally die, it’s almost an hour later, Sanguin and Geare weren’t even done with what they wanted to do. They pick up their shit, and on the way out, Geare lands a particularly hard kick to the side of Bauhinia’s head. They don’t look back when they walk away.

The show is over. They grab Bauhinia’s backpack at where she’d collapsed and set up camp right there. Sanguin grumbles about how Bauhinia probably stole the backpack from the cornucopia a while ago. They raid it, toss the remaining stuff into the bushes, and start a fire. They have enough water to drink and take their time to catch their breath. But they’re not planning on doing anything else today. They’re at least a mile away from the stream, as far as you can tell. 

Annie and Marsh are almost back at the shack. They’ve already eaten their dinner on the way, from what you remember. And if they’re hungry later tonight, they agreed to just eat it cold. They don’t want to take any chances when it comes to being caught at their homebase. You appreciate the both of them.

Five boy, who was on the left side of the arena, has now migrated almost all the way to the right side of the arena. The gamemakers were all so caught up in showing the chase for hours that they weren’t able to show what the others were up to. The boy moving from one end to another is actually pretty impressive, but you’re starting to worry. The right side is becoming crowded.

Your two tributes, the two careers, and now Five boy. District Seven is three miles away at most, the only person who’s on the other side is Nine girl. There’s eight people left in the arena, and more than half are too close to your tributes for comfort.

The evening goes too quickly for your liking, you just spent hours feeling nauseous for Cecelia, and now that it’s over it’s almost forgotten completely. Annie takes watch in the shack tonight, Marsh falls asleep next to the wall, one arm bent above his head, the other resting on his stomach.

Five boy travels for a little while longer before making his home. He picks leaves off of bushes and chews them while making a bed of grass comfortable enough to sleep on. Nine girl looks like she’s found herself a hiding spot under a rock that’s behind a fallen log. The log is a home to bugs, so you’re not entirely sure if it’s a good spot to stay for the night or not. And District Seven is comfortable in their huts near the middle-top of the arena. 

With the sun setting already, and the betting room mostly cleared out, you feel comfortable enough to get up and try to eat dinner. You’re not exactly hungry, especially not after all that you’ve just watched, but you know that you don’t want to be ordering food in your room in the middle of the night. Or gorging yourself in the morning.

“I probably won’t come back down here. I don’t think another fight’s going to break out tonight.” you briefly twirl a strand of hair around your finger before letting it go.

Gloss gives you a hug, bidding you a good night. Enobaria says the same, you wish her good luck when it comes to breaking the news to Wade. She rolls her eyes, “He’s going to be dramatic about it, but I’m pretty sure he’s not going to be awful. The real fun here is going to be telling Cashmere what Sanguin did.”

You both look to Gloss, “Yeah, she’s not going to be thrilled. You think the gamemakers will kill her?”

“If she starts licking blood off of her fingers, definitely.” you say, which earns a laugh out of your friends.

The second you step out of the betting room, you start feeling better. It’s fresh air from what you’ve been breathing for the past hour. While the hallway smells like stale concrete, it’s also more moist than it is inside, but not moldy. The inside of the betting room is dry, mostly because of the fact that it’s underneath the glass ceiling. If you were to describe it; dirt, sunlight, and dust. And if it’s particularly hot: sweat.

You don’t head straight up, opting for a few minutes to yourself before you ultimately have to explain what happened in the arena to Finnick. You’re sure that you won’t have to get into the gorey details, but that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t know the severity of it. Every couple of years, tributes like Sanguin come around, and it’s always a bloody ending. They always get stuck with some title like ‘Ruthless’ and take pride when other mentors steer clear.

Sometimes, you hear people debating whether or not you fall under that topic. And honestly, sometimes it’s hard for you to know, yourself.

You take the elevator up to the Four floor, holding onto the railing. You’ve seen more than your fair share of gorey moments inside and outside of the arena by now. At this point, you’re sure that you’re being tested to see how far you can be pushed before you snap. The truth is that you have an immeasurable amount of patience. It’s going to take a while.

The moment you get upstairs, you go ahead and turn the tv on and wait. Finnick had only come up here a little while ago, it wouldn‘t hurt to give him some more time before he’s subjected to a boring night. He can always just sleep down there, of course. But it’s more comfortable to sleep in your own bed, even if it’s just for a little while.

You take a seat on the couch, untie your shoes, and watch Annie. She’s talking to Marsh at the moment, mostly speculation on who died. Two tributes is a lot, considering all that’s happened. It isn’t until the anthem comes on, do they realize that they can just look into the sky and see who it was for themselves.

They both slip out just in time to see that Vanilee is one of the dead tributes from today. Annie grins slightly, elbowing Marsh. He elbows her right back, looking just as happy. And with Bauhinia showing up next, they head inside right after. 

“Two careers.” Marsh whispers, “We ought to take them on ourselves.”

“Us and what army?” Annie asks.

They’re both quiet for a couple of minutes, until Marsh speaks again, “I think we could do it.”

“It’s a risk.”

“The entire Hunger Games is a risk. We knew that and volunteered anyway. What’s the harm in a little more?”

Annie doesn’t answer him, he drifts off to sleep. The truth is that if you’re not ready to go at it with a whole heart, you shouldn’t go into it at all. Annie is conflicted, you hope she doesn’t buckle just because Marsh is applying pressure. All it takes is one moment of hesitance with the careers now, and your tributes are screwed.

Still, you sit and watch for an hour or so longer, as the tributes settle into their spots. The moment that Sanguin says that she doesn’t want to take watch tonight, you’re at ease. You pick up your shoes by the back, and head up towards your room, right after telling the avoxes that you’ll be out to eat in a moment. 

You drop your shoes off in your room. On your way over to wake up Finnick, you can hear the door close. It’s Elysia, dressed in sunshine yellow and pink. She gives you a slight wave before sitting down at the table. You continue on your adventure to Finnick’s room, gently knocking on the door before you open it.

Finnick is passed out on the bed, anyway. You stand there for a moment, hesitating on whether or not you should actually wake him up. You think that you’re just fine to keep going in the betting room for a while longer. If you take it easy after dinner, you should have loads of more hours in you. And you’ll actually get to see Cashmere and Wade for the first time in a couple of days. 

However, it doesn’t work out like that. You go to turn and leave, but Finnick inhales sharply and sits upright on his bed, “Fucking Christ, you scared me.” He lets out a small laugh, and rubs his face, “That’s one way to wake me up.”

“Through your sixth sense?” You joke, Finnick snorts.

“Something like that.” He looks at you, “Anything wrong?”

“Just dinner time. And I should probably catch you up on what happened after you left. Get dressed, Elysia’s out here.” You flick on his lightswitch, since the room has grown dark without any natural light, and then you leave.

Elysia is at the table, food displayed all across it. She helps herself, giving herself small portions. Knowing her, she’s planning on trying everything at least once to try and not seem rude. You take your regular spot, and start out pretty light, not wanting to push yourself. You don’t know how much you’re going to be able to tolerate.

Finnick comes out a couple of moments later, wearing jeans and a black shirt. He sits beside you, but stares at the tv for a while, probably trying to figure out what happened exactly.

“Today was… eventful.” Elysia says, there’s a hint of distaste in her voice. You’re so glad that you got stuck with an escort that’s some form of sane. If you had one of those Capitol people that act like your former prep team when something bad happens, you would’ve murdered her by now. It makes for hard conversation when you’re at opposing sides. 

“Finnick missed it.” You tell her, “Do you think there’ll be a recap of it?”

“Do you want to watch the recap?” She asks, face twisting, “Does he?”

You both barely glance at Finnick, who’s not very entertained by all the vagueness. It doesn’t even cross your mind that Elysia might be right and he wouldn’t want to watch someone literally get their back ripped out. You’ve seen the shit that Finnick has done, or watched when he was bored.

“Finnick’s got an iron stomach. Your back is to the tele anyway, you should be fine as long as you don’t turn around.” And you should be fine if you don’t watch the particularly bad parts. In the end, Elysia helps you rewind to when Bauhinia collapses in the bushes.

“This happened thirty minutes after you left.” You say, deciding that you should eat while you can.

Finnick doesn’t seem bothered at first, watching as the careers come around and start looking for her. It’s only their natural instinct, and it’s the same thing for when Bauhinia pushes herself to her feet. Finnick does react when he realizes that she’s going to run.

“Wow.” He says, pulling apart a honey roll, eating it in bits.

“It gets worse.” You say.

Elysia barely glances over her shoulder, apprehensive, “Much, much worse.”

Bauhinia runs, Finnick exhales. Sanguin shouts, collects the kama, and leaves Geare in the dust. He’s moving behind her, but not as quickly.

“She’s fast.” Finnick sounds impressed, “And so is Bauhinia.”

“Not fast enough.” You find your fingers twisting the ring, anxious.

Sanguin catches up, and the moment she comes to that quick stop, you hold your breath. The kama flies through the air, lodging into Bauhinia. Finnick tilts his head. The room falls silent, Elysia finishes her meal just in time for Sanguin to reach Bauhinia. 

You turn your head away, but you’re still stuck with the sound of squelching and blood-curdling screaming. Finnick’s face twists, eyebrows pushing in, “How did Cecelia take it?”

“Left before this happened. Gloss tried to apologize, but she said she’d see us next year.”

“Probably not.” Finnick shakes his head, “And this went on for how long?l

Elysia turns the tv off, “Practically an hour.”

You two go back to eating, Elysia’s space is cleared. “Anything else happen?”

“Nine girl got a backpack this afternoon, just before I went down to see you. Her pick of the litter since the careers were absent from the cornucopia. Five boy is almost on the right side.”

Finnick chokes, “Already? When did he start heading that way?”

“Sometime during the great chase, the gamemakers showed all the tributes after the fact. Also, Marsh has proposed the idea of him and Annie going after the careers since they’re down a tribute. Annie doesn’t think it’s a great idea.”

“That’s because Annie has some common sense.”

“Yeah.” You agree.

Elysia stays out with you guys just long enough to pass on a few messages from Laurel and Pleurisy. It’s not anything important, just meaningless facts about their progress, they want to know your opinions on if your tributes still have a chance. Your answer is yes.

She goes to her room, Finnick finishes eating. You tell him that he can probably sleep for a while longer without having to go downstairs. You got confirmation from the careers that they weren’t going to try and go night hunting after what they’ve been through today.

“What’re you going to do in your free time?” Finnick asks, you shrug and jab your thumb down the hall.

“Go outside and try not to puke.”

“Did it know you were so squeamish.” There’s a cheeky smile on his face.

You give him a look, and then disappear down the dark hallway. Your fingers find the doorknob, twisting it. The summer air is surprisingly cold, but surely refreshing. You take in a deep breath, and feel like an idiot almost immediately after. It’s air.

Finnick comes out right behind you, shutting the door. The city is calm, no one is in the streets celebrating an exciting day. You lean against the railing and take in deep breaths of air. It wasn’t a good idea to rewatch the recap, you’ve decided this now. Even if you weren’t watching it directly, you still heard it all.

“Annie and Marsh are going to be okay.” Finnick says.”

“I think so too, as long as they don’t go running towards the careers. That’s a fight I don’t want to watch them lose. If you thought Sanguin on Bauhinia was bad, imagine what she’ll do to Annie.” You look at Finnick.

He hadn’t considered that, you can tell by the look on his face. He sighs, which turns into a yawn, “Well, Annie Can take care of herself.”

“Hopefully.”

“There’s no hoping, she can take care of herself.” Finnick pauses for a moment, “Imagine having Annie or Marsh in Victor’s Village. One of them could be our new neighbor.” 

You snort, smiling, “Talk about a nightmare. My house already hosts practically everyone during the dinners, adding Annie’s family on top of that means we’ll have to get a bigger table. Or worse, build one ourselves.”

“Reed is handy!” Finnick laughs.

“He’s not handy, and neither is Mox.” You shake your head, the ide app either of them attempting to build a table is stupid. You’ll just have to find some sort of carpenter and hope that the dining room is big enough.

“How many people do you normally have over?” Finnick asks.

“Think you have a table?” You joke.

“Maybe.” He grins, “I’m just curious, honestly. Last time I went to one of your dinners, I was sixteen.”

“Yeah, well, it’s my entire family, which is four. And Caspian’s family, which is seven.” Finnick laughs, you chuckle slightly, “Sometimes Mayor Burrula and his family, which is four. Definitely Anchor…” you trail off, counting, “Sixteen people, give or take.”

“You’ll invite Anchor but not Mags?”

“Oh! I forgot Mags. She comes to our dinners every night, though. Guess I should count her as family at this point.”

“Anchor isn’t?”

You look at Finnick again to see that his eyebrows are raised, “Still curiosity?”

He shrugs, “Are you still dating?”

“No, not anymore.” you follow a car until it turns a corner, “We were only together for a couple of months… last christmas through August.”

“Huh, felt like longer.”

You give him a look, “How’d you even know?”

“I pay attention. Why’d you break up?”

You hum, “Well, for starters, he’s like five or six years older than me. He’s worked through all of his problems, and I’m not even done yet.” you pick at your nails, “He didn’t like seeing me stressed out all the time, either. He was there for me when I needed him but he thought that I was dragging him around like a weight.” you look back at Finnick, “Partially your fault, mostly mine because I don’t know how to chill out apparently.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice.” Finnick says.

You make a face, and then punch his arm as hard as you can. Finnick’s still rubbing the spot when you go back to where you were standing before, “Anyway, asshole. Him and I still hang out when we can. I take care of Mags, he takes care of Luther.” you snort, “You and Scotch have something in common, can you guess what it is?”

“Fuck you.” Finnick’s laughing, “I’ve done my part this year!”

“After I nearly killed you three times.” you run a hand through your hair, getting it out of your face, “But yeah, Anchor and I aren’t together anymore.”

“Seeing someone else?”

You look at him, “Are you?”

Finnick shakes his head, “No, not yet.”


	8. Chapter 8

There’s a familiar feeling of dread when you wake up this afternoon. A bottomless pit in your stomach that sticks with you no matter how hard you shake. You sit in bed for an extra twenty minutes, hoping that positive affirmations will be enough to get some of it to go away. Dread is an unbearably uncomfortable feeling, and it doesn’t go away either.

You have to get out of bed at some point, so you drag your feet around your room, getting shit ready for the shower. Ripped white skinny jeans, an open-back light blue shirt, white underwear. You drop it all onto the white bathroom counter, turn on the shower, and let it run for a couple of minutes as you lean over the sink bowl.

Maybe you’re just hungry. You’ve felt this same hopeless feeling before, and all you had to do was eat for it to go away. You’ll have breakfast, and by the time you get to the betting room, your heart and stomach will be full. It’s hard to convince yourself this lie, knowing that it’s deeper than that.

You take your time in the shower too, no longer feeling sorry for Finnick for taking so long. He’s got Gloss and Enobaria down there, and they’re not so bad when you get to know them well enough. Unlike their crazy tributes inside of the arena, they know when and how to dial it down without causing too much trouble. Every year, it’s like the tributes ramp it up for entertainment. You wish they knew just how fucking insane they looked, how unappealing it’ll get to the gamemakers.

The Capitol likes fun, big and new until it’s gross and they can’t stomach it anymore. It might take them a little longer to get to that point, since they’ve been watching this shit for years, so they’re more desensitized than the rest of you. But it’s going to happen, and the moment it does, the gamemakers are going to censor everything possible to get their exciting program back on track.

It’s sickening, but it’s always sickening.

You wrap it up in the shower, allow the Capitol hair machines to work their magic on your hair. And while you’re at it, you go ahead and decide to let the body blow dryers do the exact same thing. You close your eyes and imagine that you’re not in the Capitol. You’re at home, on the beach surrounded by your friends and family. It’s late spring, early summer. You’ll picnic on the beach after you’re done with the water, and then you’ll play games until sundown. Walking home in the dark is especially fun, Reed drunk is a sight that never fails to amuse.

And then the blow dryers stop, and you’re right back home. You get dressed, one article at a time. Underwear, bra, pants, shirt. To avoid an endless stare in the mirror again, you go out to the dining room. 

You turn on the tv, sit at the table, and watch as the avoxes serve a big breakfast. Good, you want to make sure that you’re full. The sooner the shitty feeling goes away, the sooner you can start focusing on more important topics. You take your time getting through it all. Pancakes, with assorted berries, syrups and candies to place on top. You get orange juice, coffee and hot chocolate served in a heartbeat. If you don’t want the berries, you can opt for oranges, apples, plums, mangos. If not fruits, then vegetables. 

You stick with the pancakes, mixing and matching your food to try and find the best combination. You’re procrastinating, you know it. The longer you take, the less time you’ll have to spend inside of the betting room. You eat and eat, but find that the feeling isn’t going away. This shouldn’t be how today is going, especially not after the shit you just went through yesterday. It might not have been your tributes directly, but it was bad enough.

At least lady fate has been nice enough to give you a warning, right? Right?

It’s one-thirty in the afternoon. Everyone inside of the arena is awake and working on their own projects by now. Nine girl is relaxing off to the left, she’s got a fire started, and she’s cooking some animal that you’ve never seen before, over it. She’s content, and you think that she’ll be able to kite the games easily, if she doesn’t go and pull anything like Bauhinia did.

Had Bauhinia just minded her own business and stuck next to the dam, she’d be alive right now. It wouldn’t have made for an interesting day, but that’s okay. You still can’t believe that she thought it was a good idea to try and attack them in the first place. Sure, it was only one of them, but she really didn’t think that she’d get away with it. The careers aren’t just going to let it go.

Sometimes there’s genius tributes, who can make their way around the arena, fight other tributes and survive off of worms in the ground. And they have everyone fooled, right up until they make their first not-common sense decision. A part of you can understand how they made it so far, because they’ve obviously got the skills for it. They’re just lacking literally the most obviously important details.

Bauhinia had the chance of winning, and she blew it for herself.

District Seven is awake, but they haven’t moved from the huts. They don’t look like they’re planning on going anywhere, either. The dam is leaking water, which has them mildly concerned, as they should be. They’ve just decided to ignore it for the time being, take advantage of it while they can before they have to actually go to the stream.

Annie and Marsh haven’t gone out to their snares at all. You don’t think they’re planning on moving today, either. They’re holed up inside of their shack, splitting food and talking about how they’re going to ration it. Maybe they’re finally going to try and make the push to the village tonight? That’s good, they should make one last round with the snares and gather what they can. Just in case there isn’t any food over there, they’d have some rabbits, squirrels and whatever else to hold them over until their next trip. Same thing goes for stocking up water.

As for the careers, they’re getting a slow start to today’s hunting day. They eat, discuss, go quiet, and then repeat the process about a hundred times until they eventually agree on just heading towards the stream. They pack up their things agonizingly slow, keeping the wretched kama with them so that no other tribute can run across it and keep it. It’s smart, but also a waste of space, considering they broke the strap on the outside of the backpack that would’ve held it for them.

And the only tribute that’s left is Five boy, who is a lot farther along than you thought he would be. He’s practically at the stream, and the path he took was on top of the careers. How they didn’t see him is a complete mystery to you. Like every other tribute that moves through the woods, he’s not very quiet. 

Then again, the careers are dragging their feet, so yesterday must’ve tired them out. After walking for several hours, and then running, there’s no way that their legs aren’t sore. Plus, they’re carrying backpacks chocked full of goods they’ll need for a couple of days. At least this shows that they’re some form of human. You’re sure that they’re going to find some way to change that thought in the next day or so. With what you’re feeling today, it’ll probably be in the next few hours.

You finish breakfast, still watching as Five boy gets closer and closer to the stream. With where he’s at currently, Annie and Mash shouldn’t have a thing to worry about. Hell, the kid isn’t even geared up, no backpack, no weapons, he’s just letting the wind decide where he’s going. Even if he did manage to run across your tributes, he wouldn’t be able to defend himself. He’s harmless.

The careers get ready to go, heading the exact same was as Five boy, of course. Again, if they stick with the path that they’re on, they shouldn’t be a problem with your tributes, either. However, if that were the case, you’re sure your heart wouldn’t squeeze each time you think of the idea of them getting close to Annie and Marsh.

You brush your teeth in your bathroom, no longer taking your time getting ready. You’ve wasted thirty minutes eating lunch alone, dragging your feet isn’t going to delay the inevitable. If today’s going to be a bad day, it’s going to happen with or without you.

Plus, Finnick’s probably wondering where you’ve been this entire time. You know that he didn’t leave to go to the betting room until early this morning. With the confirmation last night that the careers wouldn’t be doing anything else, he decided to sleep for a little while longer. You didn’t really see any harm in it either. The important part is that he got down there this morning.

The elevator down makes you anxious, you press a hand to your stomach, hoping that it’ll ease your nerves. But the more you walk towards the betting room, the more the dread spreads from your stomach to your chest. By the time you’re actually inside of the room, you’re sure that being dead would be better than feeling this for the rest of the day.

Finnick is standing up instead of sitting, arms crossed while he watches the tv screen. Gloss is standing next to him, talking about something. Every now and then they’ll glance at each other, but for the most part, they’re reasonably interested in what’s going to eventually happen. It’s a matter of time before the careers and Five boy run across each other, isn’t it?

As for Enobaria, she’s in a group of sponsors, chatting away. You’d say that you’re surprised or that she’s gearing up for something, but the truth is that it’s a ritual of hers. She’ll lose a tribute, and then she’ll go talk to Capitol people all day to make her feel better. It’s a way to take away from the self-hated. The Capitol people are a fucking escape, with their rich lives, accents and complete obliviousness to social cues. It’s hard not to get lost in them.

Mentors are usually pissed at the Capitol for encouraging the games, but it works a little differently with the careers. You’re supposed to love the Capitol for favoring your districts all because of what you guys produce. The truth is that keeping up appearances is hard, and constantly trying not to be mad at them is even worse. At some point you’re going to snap.

And Enobaria wouldn’t want to ruin the perfect reputation that she’s built up all this time. To be fair, neither would you. It’s hard to get the Capitol to like a district that isn’t very good at the games, and it’s even harder to do when you’ve insulted them constantly. This is why you insult your own district to ally yourselves with the Capitol to make them think that you’re over being a savage.

Anyway, you wouldn’t be surprised if Enobaria doesn’t speak to any of you all today. She should be right back to it tomorrow, though. Nothing is permanent when it comes to her. She could be mad at you today, bounce right back at it the next day. She’ll also probably find a way to blow off steam.

The Afternoon Line Odds say that everyone is still at their respective places. Annie and Marsh are still at a 6-1, Sanguine is at 1-1, and Geare is at 2-1. As for everyone inside of the arena… you wouldn’t say that they don’t have a chance at winning, you’d say that they don’t have a chance at getting sponsored. The higher your odds, the more people are going to keep their eyes on you.

Before Bauhinia died, she was at a 14-1, which isn’t horrible, but isn’t the best either. Nine girl is at a 10-1, you can’t remember what she was yesterday. You can imagine that getting that backpack from the cornucopia has worked wonders for her. The more supplies she has, the easier it’ll be to live out in the woods. You still think that someone should make a run for the village before it’s too late. None of the careers are going to see, and do they really think another, lesser tribute is going to chase them down there?

The village is barren, it’s practically the golden ticket. Plus, Nine girl doesn’t even know about the stream on the right side of the woods! All she probably knows is about the dam leaking water, but that’s not really an efficient way to drink, right? Who knows how many diseases lie inside of the lake water behind the dam. The water probably has concrete dust anyway.

Though, you can’t completely blame them. If you were in the same spot as they were, you’re not sure if going out of your comfort zone would be a number one priority. In your arena, you always went to the pond. And after the pond was slowly being sucked up, you were apprehensive to go to the waterfall because it was uncharted territory… not really claimed, either. On the other hand, though, you knew that other tributes were in that area. Made it a little harder to want to go around there in the first place.

You appear behind Finnick and Gloss, who don’t seem to take notice of your presence at all. With the angle they’re turned at, Finnick could look to Gloss and still not see you. As you listen in, it’s basically meaningless conversation, until Finnick starts asking questions.

“Is she normally this stressed out?”

“You don’t even know half of it. Compared to the last couple of years we’ve known her, this is absolutely nothing.” Gloss lets out a breathy laugh, “I mean, she used to eat, sleep and breathe this room. None of us really understood how she’d survive down here. Sleep deprivation, hours without eating.” Gloss looks at Finnick, “The tributes would die and she wouldn’t even get mad. It’s hard to forget she’s human.”

“Do you think she unintentionally flirts with the Capitol people?” Finnick asks.

Your mouth opens, face twisting in disbelief as you look to Finnick. You have the urge to slap him upside the head hard enough to rattle his fucking brain with a question like that. You don’t mind that he’s asking these questions, he was practically asking the same exact ones last night before you went to bed.

After the Anchor question on the balcony, more followed. He had three years to catch up on, and you guys didn’t even get to finish. You got too tired to go on, so he let you go on the promise that you’d resume the questionnaire another night. He asked practically everything that he could think of.

How you were doing after all these years, what you like to do, how you fill your free time when you’re not in the Capitol. What your brothers have been up to, how Alyssum’s been doing in school, what they do now that they don’t have to work every hour of the day to provide anymore. And then went the questions for Caspian’s family and if you’re still close with them, which is an obvious yes. More questions about Mags, Anchor and Luther.

You think this is a good sign, like it’s Finnick’s own personal way to weasel his way back into your life. You’re practically down for whatever gets him to stay this time around. You don’t want him to be participating in this year’s games but completely fall off the radar by the time next year rolls around.

Anyway, Finnick turning to Gloss to ask these same questions is only natural, you’re sure that if Cashmere and Enobaria were over here too, they’d be more personal. To some extent, you think that Finnick isn’t trying to dig too deep, like he’s unsure of whether or not Gloss is one of your best friends or not. However, if he was going with that path, he wouldn’t have just asked Gloss whether he thinks you’re flirting with the Capitol each time you open your mouth.

“Uh,” Gloss says, smart man. He shouldn’t be quick to answer, but if he’s finding a better way to word whatever he’s thinking, he might have earned himself a hard slap to the side of the head too. “I wouldn’t say that it’s unintentional. We all know that the more you compliment the sponsors, the more willing they are to sponsor. So, I’d say that when she does, it’s on purpose too. She’s good at getting her way.”

“So I’ve heard.” Finnick mutters.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” you ask, causing the both of them to jump.

Gloss places a hand over his heart, “Holy fuck, (Y/n). Again?”

You hardly pay attention to Gloss, eyes focused on Finnick, who’s beginning to turn red because of guilt, “I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

“That’s what everyone says when they’re caught.” you roll your eyes, looking at the screen, “What’s up, Gloss?”

“Watching Enobaria unintentionally flirt with the sponsors.” Gloss snorts.

“Ha!” you elbow him, a smile peeking onto your face.

“(Y/n), I just meant that I’ve experienced it first hand. The elevator? The train?” Finnick says, you barely glance at him, “You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?”

You shrug, a cheeky smile on your face, “Hey, I’d be careful next time, though. Who knows what corner I’ll be lurking behind next?” you reach over, fingers finding Finnick’s sides.

Finnick squirms, giving you a glare, “Get your dirty fingers off of me.”

“Fine, I guess I’ll just turn to Gloss instead–”

“I’m not ticklish, living a life with Cashmere will do that to you.” Gloss says.

You pause for a second, “She’s your younger sister.”

“Sisters are cruel.” he says.

You snort, going for his sides anyway, “You’re a liar!”

“Grab her!” Gloss shouts, Finnick laughs.

You move out of the way before either of them can do some real damage. Gloss had been going for your wrists, Finnick for your back. You knew it was only going to be a matter of time before they tried to torture you. But unlike them–the total liars–you’re not actually ticklish. 

It’s always the older sibling that messes with the younger ones. Of course, you’ve had your fair share of impish moments and getting on your brothers’ nerves. But you’ve never had the opportunity to hold down Reed and give him hell until he cried and begged and promised to do shit that he didn’t want to. Plus, the idea of Cashmere going that far on Gloss is heinous. Does he really think you’re that stupid?

“Anyway, hear the tributes talk about anything important?”

“For a while the gamemakers let us hear Annie and Marsh. Catch any of that while you were taking your sweet ass time getting down here?” Finnick asks, giving you a raised eyebrow.

“Not my fault I feel like shit.”

Suddenly, Finnick’s no longer suspicious, “Sick?”

“Probably not, just a gut feeling.”

Gloss lets out a laugh, “Well, that’s not good. Last time you had a gut feeling was last year when… both of your tributes died on the same day?”

“Yeah.” you huff, “And if this year is a repeat, I’m going to fucking lose my mind.”

“I would too. You’ve got quite the streak going on.”

You punch Gloss’ arm.

“So on top of everything else, you’re also psychic?” Finnick asks.

You place your hands on top of your head, “Yeah, something like that. What was Annie and Marsh saying?”

“Village, talking about going there before it’s too late. They both want to go tonight, they’re still worried about finding a water source, though.”

“Figured.”

The further Sanguin and Geare walk, the more they seem to awaken. No longer dragging their feet, conversation has picked back up into its usual vicious state. Mostly about what happened yesterday, and they can’t believe that the chase went on as long as it did. You can’t blame them, at first glance, Bauhinia doesn’t look like a girl that ran track in high school. Then again, appearances can be deceiving.

Five boy has made it to the stream, deciding to take a break. He’s sat on the right side of the bank so no one can sneak up on him from the way he came. He sheds some clothing, dipping his shirt in the water, ringing it out a little to not let him be completely soaking wet, and then puts it back on. You didn’t really consider the fact that it could very well be hot inside of the arena. It looks like it’s the middle of springtime there, like it can’t be more than seventy degrees.

Whatever he does, he doesn’t shed his shoes. He’ll sit in the stream water, let his pants completely soak, but taking off his shoes is out of the question. In fact, he even goes as far as to lift his feet in the air to make sure that they don’t get wet at all. You guess it’s not a completely fruitless idea. Walking in wet shoes isn’t comfortable at all, especially when your skin begins to wrinkle. Plus, if he were to take off his shoes and someone else were to show up, he’d be stuck running through the woods barefoot. If there’s one thing that no one wants to do, it’s run through the woods barefoot.

Rocks, dirt, sticks, needles, poison ivy, beetles, spiders, snakes, whatever can be lying in the grass. Hell, you’ve seen grass that looks like it’s harmless, but it turns out it has razor edges along the blade. It wouldn’t be a problem, if it weren’t for the fact that the grass had reached above their shoes, constantly cutting and reopening wounds on their calves. Didn’t make for a very fun time for the tributes.

You can appreciate the determination going on with Five boy. He kinda reminds you of Six before he went and died via forcefield. The both of them have their own set of determinations. While Five boy has, for whatever reason, made it his goal to make it across the woods in a little less than two days, Six boy had been moving to get away from the dam.

Although, you’re really not sure what Five is up to. If he was looking for water, he found it. But you can’t imagine that’s why he traveled across the entire arena. If he’s lasted this long, that means he’s had his own supply off to the far left for a while. Why leave what you know is working? You’re all for taking risks until it’s unnecessary.

Upstream from Five is your tributes, who are still inside of the shack. You can’t hear the conversation, as usual, so you try your best to read lips. You think you catch Marsh saying that they should hole themselves up inside of the shack until tonight comes. Annie asks what they would do if someone came along and wants where they’re saying, he says to fend it off or just make a fucking run for the village.

Annie says splitting up isn’t a smart idea, he agrees, “What choice do we have?” Those words are the clearest. Annie doesn’t really respond, she just brings her legs to her chest and rests her chin on her knees. Then, she shrugs. You can’t blame her, it’s hard knowing what to do when you don’t really have options. And with them being inside of the Hunger Games, everything is a risk at this point.

If they don’t move on, they run the risk of someone coming across them, their shack, their snares and taking one of them out. If they do move on, they leave behind shelter, the way they’ve been getting food, a certain water source, and they go on the chance that they might get caught on the way to the village. It’s not really a winning situation unless all conditions are perfect. Which is hardly ever. Oh, and also if they stay, the dam will eventually be their number one problem.

Marsh says that he’s going to step out and get fresh air, he’ll just be outside of the doorstep. Annie says she’s fine with that, watches him leave and then closes her eyes for a while. They’re not really splitting up, so you can’t see a problem with him just leaving for a moment. If he wanders off, that’s a whole new ordeal, though.

Sanguin and Geare are fast despite their sore legs. The map that the gamemakers show you, tell you that they’re basically on top of the stream. A couple more minutes, and they’ll be able to see it through the trees. And with the path they took, it’s parallel to what Five boy took. This is a fight waiting to happen. Any fucking minute now.

“Back to back.” Gloss says.

“Can’t wait to see what Sanguin has instore for us today.” Finnick says.

Gloss looks over, “You heard what happened?”

“Saw.” you correct, “Showed him what happened when I got back yesterday. Let’s just say that Finnick can eat and watch shit like that all day long.”

“O-kay.” Finnick draws out the world, but he starts laughing along with you two.

And like you predicted, Sanguin and Geare spot the stream through the trees. They’re not really overjoyed, just relieved that they finally found it after all this time. They take their time getting there, dropping off their stuff in the bushes along the treeline. Geare crouches down to splash water on his face, Sanguin complains about her hair being greasy.

They fill back up on water, talking quietly amongst themselves because there’s no use to shout if they’re next to each other. The moment they comfortably fall into silence, Five boy’s voice is heard. It’s not clear, it sounds distant, but it’s unmistakable. You watch as Sanguin and Geare share a look, hands finding their weapons, then dropping the things they don’t need at the moment before they head off toward Five.

A part of you wonders that if Five boy takes off running, if they’ll follow or just let him go. You wouldn’t believe your eyes if they just decided to go after him. But you also couldn’t believe your eyes when you watched Sanguin single-handedly rip apart Bauhinia like she was a fucking animal and not a human.

The careers disappear into the trees for better coverage, taking their time with getting down to where Five boy is. They’re definitely going to chase after him. And if they don’t chase, Sanguin will probably just throw her sword out of nowhere or some shit. Surprise all of you at the same time. If the odds could go to 0-1 with her, you’re sure that they would.

Five boy is humming to himself, turning a rock over in his hand. You watch in silent horror as Sanguin and Geare manage to get closer and closer without being detected. Actually, you’re sure that with their skills, they could easily cross the stream and still not be figured out. If they can do this in broad daylight, what can they do when they have the night as their veil?

You don’t like the chill that goes down your spine.

No words pass between Sanguin and Geare, they must decide that they’ll be able to handle Five boy in whatever way they need. The way that they simultaneously come out of the trees, with their hand-picked weapons brandished and the strict expression on their faces. They look like a pair of villains in a children’s fairytale. However, normally those villains are easy to beat and seem to have a chink in their armour. Sanguin and Geare are not like that.

Five spots them almost immediately, eyes widening and darting up, mouth parting as he watches them. You can see the glint of the sun off Sanguin’s sword land in his eyes for a moment, before disappearing off into the trees. No words come from any of them, he just stares as they get closer.

Sanguin and Geare split, wanting to take Five from both sides, which seems to finally set him off. Five jumps to his feet, crouching over slightly, caught in the decision of fight or flight. Would be he able to hold them off? You don’t think so. Would he be able to outrun them? You don’t think so, either. They’re good fighters, Sanguin’s an even-better runner. There’s no way he’s making out of this alive.

Doesn’t mean he can’t try, though.

And like a fucking psychopath, Five boy screams at the top of his lungs. And while that momentarily catches both of the careers off guard, it also makes Annie jerk to life inside of the shack. She grabs her short blade, throwing the door of the shack open to find what’s the matter. Marsh is already on his feet outside, eyes on Annie.

“What was that?” Annie asks, you can hear her this time.

“It’s not far away.” Marsh says, “We shouldn’t stay.”

“We can’t leave now, can we? Where will we go?”

“Up?” Marsh asks.

“Are you fucking crazy?”

Another scream, Five boy has brought his fists up to his face like he’s getting ready to fight. He’s an idiot, he’s going to get himself killed. If Annie can take out One boy–Colt–without blinking her eyes, Sanguin and Geare can both easily do it with their eyes closed. You have slight hope for him, looking at the Line Odds to see what the gamemakers are making of him. He’s at 15-1, worse than Bauhinia.

“He’s fucked!” you exclaim.

Sanguin bites, swinging her sword right at him. He ducks out of the way, jumping at her legs. He takes her out, scrambling on top of her, getting the sword away from him. He raises his fist up high, and before Geare can catch it, slams his fist straight into her teeth. You can feel the ache in your own front teeth, especially since he gave her all knuckle. She’s got to be feeling something.

Geare grabs a hold of Five, yanking him off and backwards into the water, which is now a huge factor. It’s splashing everywhere, getting all of them wet, slowing their movements down. The stream seems to get heavier, moving faster to make balancing impossible. No thanks to the gamemakers, you’re sure. A little interference never hurt anyone, right?

Sanguin scoops up her sword in her wet hands, which are still stained red from Bauhinia’s blood yesterday. She rinsed them off with the water from her water bottle, but even after that, and scrubbing them in the stream not five minutes ago, they’re stained. And they’re about to be stained again, you think.

Geare holds Five boy in place, raising up the sword. Five stays still eyes on the silver blade that’s about to make its home in his chest. His life is probably flashing before his eyes, every mistake he’s ever made is suddenly at the front of his mind. What he said to his family last before they had to say their goodbyes. It’s all he can think about.

Marsh has now geared up for the fight, completely switching gears from his original intention of running, “What if it’s the careers?”

“What–are you hearing yourself? You’re right! What if it’s the careers–you just want to run right on in?”

“There’s two of them, Annie!” Marsh shoves Annie’s backpack into her hands, “And just in case you forgot, we’re careers too! This could be our opportunity!”

“Or it could be our death sentence!” Annie grabs a hold of his arm, “This is stupid.”

“Come or don’t, I’m going down there.”

He tightens the strap on his backpack, quickly making his way down the hill. Annie stands there for a moment, runs a hand through her messy hair, and then lets out a sigh. She heads down there after him, tightening the straps on her own backpack, and gripping and regripping the short blade in her hand. This is bad, very bad.

The fight is about to go from three to five. The original stakes are now unmatched, now that two more careers have been added to the equation. District Four versus Five boy versus what’s left of the career pack. Who’s going to fight who, you wonder. Will Sanguin and Geare stay focused on their original plan, or will they be completely distracted by your tributes.

The tension in your chest has met its breaking point. Loud, shaking, vibrating. This is it. Exactly what you feared is going to happen. Last year, a couple of tributes had managed to kill both of your tributes at the same time. This year, it’s going to be the careers, since Sanguin is dead set on killing Annie at least, and Geare will naturally go for Marsh to finish District Four off once and for all.

“(Y/n), breathe.” Finnick’s rubbing your back.

Sanguin brings the sword down, she misses Five boy by a hair. He turned sideways just in time, but Sanguin’s not fucking around. She’s desperate to get this over with, tired of outsider tributes slipping through her fingers like sand. She raises her sword much quicker now, and slams it through his arm, pinning him to the ground. He screams.

Marsh quickens his pace, Annie quietly ushers him to slow down. He doesn’t listen to her. They both make it down the hill just in time to see Geare pin Five’s other arm down with his foot. Sanguin holds out her hand, Geare hands over his own weapon. One moment, they’re all still, Five has no way of escaping, Marsh and Annie are an audience to some sick show.

Chaos is what happens next. Sanguin moves faster than Marsh had predicted. She easily kills Five, a cannon going off. But Marsh has revealed where he was, moving towards her, swinging his own sword before she can pull hers out of Five. He brings the blade up high, Sanguin flinches to cover her face with her forearm. The blade slices right through her skin, blood flying, a yelp of pain leaving her.

Annie moves forward too, apprehensive at first, like she doesn’t know where to start. Attack Sanguin or Geare? Does she even want to be placed in the middle of this? If she ran now, she could save herself. Fuck, she could run all the way to the village and none of them would be able to catch her. She’d be able to hide herself somewhere where they’d never be able to find her.

And then Sanguin catches sight of Annie, and suddenly the whole mood is shifted. With her target spotted, Marsh is an easy object to get out of the way. She shoves, rips her sword out of Five, blood gushing down her arm at an unhealthy pace, and storms her way over to Annie.

It’s too late for Annie to run now. Her chin lowers, she makes sure that Sanguin can see the shortblade, and the fight really starts. Sanguin swings, Annie dodges and moves closer. It’s the same dancing game that she played with Colt, except this time, Sanguin knows of Annie’s games. For every step Annie takes forward, Sanguin moves backward to keep her away.

At some point, though, she can’t run any further. It’ll make her look like a coward. Annie is persistent, she won’t let up until Sanguin conforms or runs. Subject yourself to the fight, or find a way to get out of there before Annie does some real damage. And since Sanguin isn’t a career for nothing, she steps up. 

Blade on blade, over and over and over again. Annie swings up, Sanguin blocks, slips and goes downward. Annie will narrowly get out of the way before bringing her blade down as hard as she can, breaking through any barriers that Sanguin thought she had built up. You’ll have to say it, they’re evenly matched.

The adrenaline that must be running through them is fucking nuts. Sanguin swings upward, Annie backs out of the way, bringing her short blade down. Sanguin just barely dodges, but you know that she’s in pain because of her arm. Annie tries to fake her out like she did to Colt, but Sanguin works faster than that. It’s okay, Annie recovers.

As for Marsh and Geare, it’s not as intense. They don’t have problems with each other, not like Sanguin and Annie. All Marsh really has to do is take out Geare before Sanguin somehow gets an upper hand on Annie. Once he’s gone, Sanguin will be too. Her pride is too big for her to just run away from a fight she’s been itching for since she first saw Annie during the bloodbath.

Marsh seems more successful. Geare might have scored a ten, but he’s lazy. Almost like he’s trying not to take it as seriously, as if he could also do this without trying. He can’t, the number that Geare scored was a reach. He too, looks like an eight or nine at most, he fights like it.

Annie keeps pushing, her strength never-ending. She’s got the same amount of stamina that Sanguin has, maybe more. The careers can run for hours on end, but you never saw use in something like that. If they get caught in a fight, they’re going to want to keep going, they don’t want to die. Annie can always go back and forth between running and walking, anyway. It’s not that easy when you’re using a sword, or in this case, a short blade.

Sanguin lets out a shout, moving faster than Annie can catch her. Instead of swinging her weapon, which is no doubt having its way with her arms now, she shoves Annie back hard enough for her to topple over. Annie hits the stream water, creating a wave that briefly reaches into the air, and then it comes all crashing down. 

All at once.

Sanguin rolls her wrist, spins toward Marsh and swings. A strangled scream leaves your throat when you cover your mouth. Geare moves out of the way, far back enough for the blade to not even come close to touching him. However, Marsh is unsuspecting, back turned towards Sanguin. He can’t see the blade coming, much less has a reason to think he’s in any sort of danger.

For a second, it’s not as bad as it seems. Sanguin’s blade forces Marsh to his knees with how it hits the back of his legs. But then Geare moves forward, sword over his shoulder, eyes locked on Marsh. The two of them work together seamlessly, it’s almost like they’ve been brainwashed with how their movements are mechanical. 

Geare brings his sword down, sword connecting with the side of Marsh’s neck. There’s no way he can defend himself, Annie just has to sit here and watch. Sit here and take it. The blade goes clean through without a struggle. His silver sword, glittering beautifully in the sunlight, has blood all along the blade.

Another cannon blasts.

Where Marshs’ head was before, has now been replaced by a fountain of deep red blood. The body falls forward, legs slanted uncomfortably. The gamemakers show Annie, and you can see she’s on the edge. There’s tears in her eyes, face slowly turning red. She’s no longer sitting, she’s already on her feet, knuckles white from how hard she’s gripping the hilt.

A stand still, you think. Where will they go from here?

Annie launches herself at Geare, completely pissed. He’s already covered in her former district partner’s blood, but with the way she collided with him, it rubs off on her. They struggle, Sanguin trying to grab a hold of her too. Logically speaking, there’s two against one. Annie shouldn’t get the upper hand here.

But Annie didn’t volunteer for the Hunger Games for nothing.

With one hand wrapped around his forehead, yanking it back, stretching his neck so that it’s accessible, the other hand has her blade sheathed. And with no hesitance, because the longer you wait, the bigger the chance of interference, she slits his throat, and shoves his body forward.

Like yesterday, with the bloody freckles across her face, Sanguin gets a face full of blood. She catches him, arms wrapped around him to make sure he gets down comfortably. Annie spins her blade between her fingers, and finishes off Geare, her short blade in the back of his head. 

Another cannon. Enobaria and Wade are going home.

Annie places her foot on Geare’s back, pushing him forward while she yanks her sword out. Sanguin can’t handle all the weight, so she falls back, trapping her beneath the dead body. Annie stares down at Sanguin for a moment, breathing heavily. She’s caught in a decision, should she take out the last career, once and for all?

It’ll take away the threat. Four people left inside of the games after Sanguin is gone. But it also goes against her moral dilemma of killing people when it’s not needed. She just needs to do it. Sanguin will keep following her if she doesn’t, Annie doesn’t want to be chased, does she?

She’s shaking, eyes filling with tears, “This is your fault. It’s all your fault.”

Sanguin opens her mouth, eyebrows drawn in. She doesn’t speak, only stares and waits. Annie lifts her sword, taking in a deep breath, and slams the blade right through Geare’s back, and into Sanguin. It doesn’t kill her, but it’ll keep her down.

Annie gathers the backpacks, transfers the goods without a single word, and then scoops up Marsh’s sword, finding a spot for it so she doesn’t have to carry. She takes one last look at Sanguin, and then spits on her. Saliva mixed with blood, it lands on Sanguin’s cheek. 

Only three tributes dead, maybe four if Sanguin’s wounds kill her anytime soon. Annie takes off through the trees, straight downhill and towards the village. It’s a shame that it took for Marsh to die for the plans to finally fall through. Either way, she won’t have to worry about Sanguin going after her. She can take her time getting to the village. 

“Okay,” You breathe, “Okay, it could be worse.”

“Why didn’t she just kill Sanguin?” Gloss asks.

“Because she doesn’t need to.” Finnick tells him, “Sanguin isn’t a threat to her, and won’t be for a while.”

It’s quiet, you let out a slight laugh, “We know how stupid it sounds. If Annie had the choice of running away from Geare and Sanguin instead of killing Geare, she would’ve just run.”

“Huh.” Gloss hums.

Enobaria no longer needs to talk to the sponsors. You watch as they all let her go, she slowly bids each and every one of them goodbye. When she finally has her back turned to them, she gives you three an eye roll. Enobaria stops a few feet away.

“Insufferable.” She huffs, “Had I known Geare would be dying today, I would’ve just stuck with you guys. They act like I need the condolences.”

“Yeah, that’s why I don’t talk to them unless I have to.” Gloss gives her a smile, she glares.

“I’ve got to go tell Wade the news.” She hugs Gloss first, even after what he said, “I’ll see you next year. Good luck.” You’re next, she gives an extra squeeze. Finnick gives her a one-armed hug.

“It was good seeing you.” You smile.

“Yeah, whatever—“

Gloss snorts, “I’m sorry for your loss!”

Enobaria flips him off, you all watch as she leaves the betting room. You look at the Line Odds next to see that Annie and Sanguin have moved. Sanguin has gone down to 2-1, probably because Five boy got the jump on her, and Annie was able to match her power. Annie has moved up to 3-1, whereas previously she was 6-1.

Good news, it’s all good news. Annie’s alive, she’s moved up on the odds board. Even if she didn’t kill Sanguin, she at least injured her enough to keep her away. You know for a fact that Sanguin’s going to go running to the cornucopia with her tail between her legs. She’s not going to bother to go after Annie.

For the most part, Annie’s fine. She’s got a scratch here and there from not being able to move out of the way in time, but other than that, she’ll be able to easily overpower Sanguin. Beforehand, Sanguin’s idea of revenge could be supported by her health, now it would be a stupid move. It would be stupid for her to do anything but go home.

“Shouldn’t you be loading up a sponsor?” You ask, looking at Gloss.

“I’m going to let her suffer some. Maybe that’ll make her more humble.”

“I’m pretty sure Annie letting her live was grounding enough.” Finnick mutters, you all laugh.

Annie runs through the trees, she’s almost out of the forest. She’s going faster since it’s all downhill, but the clearing beyond the woods is flat. And the hills will slow her down even more. The problem isn’t so much Sanguin anymore, but the other tributes seeing her. Nine girl, who has her own weapon. The Seven tributes, who are working in a pair.

But as far as you can tell, they’re not near the tree line. They seem to be stuck where they are, probably confused about the three cannons. One and two are normal, signifies a small fight, maybe the careers ran into other tributes, or the careers lost one of their own altogether. But three is bigger, even if it doesn’t seem like it.

Sanguin is still laying underneath Geare, wincing each time she moves. A moan will leave her mouth when she tries to push him off, the sword blade digging around in her wound. She pants, pauses, and tries again, gritting her teeth. Geare is bigger than her, it’s going to take a moment to get him off of her. She’s probably under some sort of pressure, knowing that everyone is watching, that the gamemakers are waiting to collect the bodies.

She presses her hands against Geare’s shoulders, slowly pushing him off. It’s like peeling a bloody shirt off of a wound, you’ve got to do it slowly if you want little to no pain. All at once is going to hurt like a bitch. However, at the angle she’s going with, it’s probably making things a whole lot worse.

She barely slips out from underneath Geare before he comes crashing back to the ground, sword hitting the dirt next to her. She lets out a groan, fingers finding her stomach. She’s in the same situation that you were in five years ago. Except her wound is all surface, hardly goes that deep. Your entire knife got shoved in, five to six inches, maybe more? Sanguin is going to survive.

She gets to her feet, grabbing her sword. Annie left her nothing, so she’s got to get to the cornucopia before sundown if she wants to be safe. She stands around the area for a couple of seconds longer, looking over Five, Marsh and then Geare. Her face twists angrily, and she shouts.

Sanguin brings her sword up, and then slams it into Geare’s back, “Fuck!”

She leaves, turning the way that she’d come with Geare and Vanilee a day ago, and starts going downhill diagonally. She keeps with this path for a while, a couple of hours, at least. The stream was only three miles off to the right of the cornucopia, with where they had started on the first day, it made it seem a whole lot longer.

Either way, Sanguin makes it to the cornucopia at the same time Annie makes it over the one important hill that’ll hide her from Sanguin. With the village right in front of her, Annie starts running again. The second that she’s stepped foot onto the washed-out soil, she collapses to her knees.

You stand from where you’re sitting with Gloss and Finnick, “Is she hurt?”

“Why would she be?” Gloss asks, he presses his lips together, and then sits up, “I’ve got to send Sanguin some medication. I’ll be back.”

Gloss finds his usual people, always ready on-hand for him to come by so they can send his tributes a gift. They talk for a moment, and then he leads them over to where he’ll confirm and send the sponsor gift.

As for Annie, her hands have curled into fists, body shaking. You’re not sure what’s happening until you’re allowed to hear, just in time for her to gasp and sob, whimpering. She sniffs, slamming her fist into the dirt a couple of times, turning her knuckles red. Annie sits up, staring into the village with bloodshot eyes. She wipes under her eyes and nose, a frown on her face.

The relief that goes through you really is like a wave. She’s not hurt, just grieving for Marsh. It’s natural with tributes that are close to each other. Annie and Marsh have been side by side since the beginning, partners in crime. Losing him was inevitable, they’re so far into the games now. It’s been less than a week and there’s only five left. From here on out, they need to treat the games like they’re almost over.

You take a seat back on the couch, lacing your fingers and leaning forward on your knees. You’re all allowed to watch a split screen of Sanguin receiving her sponsor gift, and Annie pulling herself together enough to find a place to stay for the night. She drags her feet through the dirt, but it’s not deep enough path for a tracker like Sanguin to come around and follow it.

Annie walks for thirty minutes before picking a three-story house. When she walks inside, you can see that the floorboards are rotting, the yellow-flowered wallpaper is curling off the walls, and the staircase on the first floor is missing quite a few steps. Annie doesn’t care, she tightens her grip on her belongings and takes one step at a time. The second floor’s staircase is much sturdier, same for the floors. The walls are just as bad.

She picks a far back room, sets everything down, and rolls out what she’ll need for tonight. With how she’s not unpacking everything, and putting things back after she’s done, Annie doesn’t want to stay where she is. Or she’s keeping everything ready just in case someone does come after her. After today, you can’t blame her, but she’s all by herself inside of the village.

Sanguin sits herself in the grass, carefully pulls her healing cream out of the silver package, disregarding whatever note that Gloss has decided to give her. Speaking of which, he joins you guys back at the couch, sitting on the arm. Sanguin squirts the contents of the tube onto her fingers, and then lifts her shirt for everyone to see.

Not a pretty sight, where the short blade had cut her is a huge gash. Dried blood around it, with how she flexes her stomach when trying to look for herself, more blood surfaces, and runs down her skin. She glares, grits her teeth, and then digs her fingers inside, trying to spread it inside to make the healing process faster. Her face turns a deep shade of red, holding her breath. When she’s done the first time, she lets out a breath of air, recuperates, and then goes again.

It’s six in the evening before anyone in the arena begins to settle down for the night. Annie has made her bed, she eats and drinks water, trying not to cry anymore than she has already today. Sanguin doesn’t have any water, which means that tomorrow she’ll have a decision to make; stay inside of the cornucopia, where she knows it’s safe, or risk going out to get water. You have a feeling that her pride is too much to allow her to just stay inside and be thirsty.

As for Nine girl, where she’s stopped is actually fairly close to where the Seven tributes are. Maybe a mile or so apart, the Seven tributes are at their huts as usual, towards the top of the arena. Nine girl is somewhere in the middle, if she continues traveling up tomorrow, she’ll come across the team easily. For now, she makes a bed of grass and uses her backpack as a pillow.

“I think I’m going back to the apartment.” Finnick says, he yawns and pushes himself up from the couch, “You’ve got it handled?”

“Yeah, of course.” you give him a smile, “I’ll go and get you later. Eat before you go to bed.”

“I can take care of myself.” he says, and then waves to Gloss, “See you later.”

“Bye.” Gloss holds up his hand briefly, and then turns back to the screen.

You get comfortable on the couch, tucking your legs beneath you. Not everyone is turning in for the night in the arena, but they might as well be. Something tells you that there’s not going to be another big event in the arena tonight. You can take it easy, probably even go out to dinner and come back and relax.

“When’s Cashmere supposed to be down here?” you ask, looking over at Gloss.

He hums, “A couple of hours, why?”

“We should all get dinner together before you switch out.”

“Sure.”

–

Without the weight in your stomach holding you down to the bed this afternoon, you slip out of bed with a yawn. You stretch your arms over your head, dragging your feet to the closet to pick out today’s outfit. Your fingers fumble, still half-asleep and squinting to be able to see properly. 

Dark blue jeans, a red tank top, black underwear. You throw it all over your arm as you reach to grab the tennis shoes, not really liking all the other options. You’re actually fairly sure that the last time you wore flats, you got blisters on the back of your feet. It’s hard to focus on your tributes when you’re complaining about the pain in your feet all day.

You throw your clothes onto the bed, as well as the shoes. On the way to the bathroom, you lock your bedroom door to make sure that you’re not going to get any unwanted guests. The shower water is warm almost instantly, but as soon as you’re dipping your fingers inside to double-check–a force of habit–you’re quickly turning the knob to make the water more cold.

Naturally, the Tribute Center has an automatic system that adjusts the heating and AC to make it comfortable for everyone inside. But this afternoon, things are particularly hot. It’s been that way since last night, when you had to shed practically everything to even get your body to a normal temperature. For good measure, you took a second shower, also cold.

It must be some sort of heatwave, thanks to the summer. And the window that you’re dealing with inside of your room probably isn’t helping all that much, either. By allowing the sun rays inside, you’re subsequently signing yourself up for the warmth that comes with it. Unfortunately, the windows don’t really come with blinds, so you just have to put up with it.

You do have to say that the heatwave inside of the Tribute Center is nothing compared to what you deal with at home. You have AC in your victor house, of course, but all the years prior when you’d just have to bear the sweat and flushed faces was like existing in hell. The only way to get away from the heat, if you weren’t swamped with housework via your brothers, was to go down to the beach and sit in the water for a while. But shedding clothes meant sunburns, and sunscreen goes up in price during the summer.

You’ve gotten used to it over the years, as you’ve grown older, you’ve also developed the philosophy of not letting stuff like that get to you anymore. Especially with not how Alyssum is getting older. If you pretend to act like everything is just fine with the heat, eventually she’ll have to stop complaining when she realizes that no one relates to her mundane problem.

However, shirts sticking to your back, using folders as fans and the irritating feeling of sweat rolling down your skin isn’t always ignorable. At least she doesn’t have to deal with you, Reed and Mox telling her that she should’ve felt what it was like to live in the shack for all these years. There’s been a silent agreement not to compare the previous living situation to the one you have now. It’s not her fault she’s living the way she is now. Plus, you think that you’d rather save those stories for when you’re old and wrinkly.

The cold water feels nice on your skin for a while, until it begins to make you cold. You step out, tie your hair out of your face and get dressed. Looking in the mirror today, there’s definitely a difference on your face. You’re not as sullen, yesterday it almost looked like someone told you that your dog died. Might as well have, Marsh is gone, and he’s not coming back.

Marsh placed seventh, with a final Line Odd of 6-1. He scored a nine on his training score, he had the Capitol in tears during his interview. He’s memorable, especially with the way that he went charging toward the careers. His intention might not have been to save Five boy, but it was still noble to face them head-on. You can only hope that none of this is in vain, that Annie will survive.

You get dressed, place your ring on your finger and hurry out to the dining room. It’s almost one already, and you haven’t even eaten yet. Dread isn’t the only thing that can ball and chain you to a bed, worry is pretty good at it too. Even better when you don’t fall asleep until late in the morning.

You shouldn’t be stressing yourself out like this, Annie is fine. She’s in the village, far away from Sanguin, who’s still injured, as far as you know. All the tributes that she would have had to worry about before are now miles away from where she is now. Hell, Sanguin would have to walk hours up and down hills just to get to Annie. And then what? Annie would be able to defend herself.

The tv is already on when you get out there, which makes you think that the avoxes had done it so that you wouldn’t have to ask today, until you see that Elysia is sitting at the table. There’s a mug in her hand, it has coffee in it, you don’t even have to pretend like you don’t know. It might be the afternoon, but she takes in caffeine like it’s an alcohol addiction.

“Hey.” you say, making her look up.

She raises her eyebrows, a smile crossing her face, “Good afternoon. How are you holding up?”

“Could be a lot worse, Annie’s a survivor.” you sit at the table, watching as cold cut sandwiches, fizzy beverages and potato chips are placed on the table. It’s not much of a fancy feast, the Capitol does this sometimes when it’s a casual afternoon.

“I’d say.” Elysia looks over to the tv.

You look over too, it’s focused on Annie at the moment. It looks like she’s finally unpacked her things, but she hasn’t moved from the back corner. Sanguin, Geare and Vanilee’s bed rolls are placed inside of each other. It’s a good way to keep warmth and make it a little comfortable. 

Food, knives, water are spread around her. She won’t be needing water refills anytime soon, she’s inherited all the dead tributes’ water jugs. You think that if she drinks enough to keep her body going, she’ll have enough to last her a week, maybe two if she really tests her limits. 

She’s sitting in the corner of the room, legs to her chest, arms wrapped around them to keep them from slipping. Her hair is messy, eyes bloodshot, bags beneath her eyes. She didn’t sleep at all last night, there’s no question about it. But at least all the scratches and cuts that were inflicted have healed. She applied the medication last night before she laid down to sleep.

You sat down in the betting room for a while with just Gloss. As soon as Cashmere came around, you kept to your idea and went out to dinner with them. It wasn’t anywhere fancy, you didn’t even bother to get a private room to eat at. It was a soup and bread place, you stayed as long as you could before Gloss fell asleep on the table.

It was nice catching up with Cashmere, she said that she’d seen Enobaria and Wade just before they left for the train. Wade was reasonably upset, but Enobaria didn’t even look phased. In fact, Cashmere leaned across the table and whispered; “Enobaria says that she hopes Annie wins.” You’re glad you have these guys as your friends, even if they have to go home, there’s no malicious intent.

They’re your best friends, through and through.

After dinner, Gloss went back to his apartment, and you were left with Cashmere for a little while. You caught her up on a lot that’s happened inside of the arena, your opinions, how you guys hung around Cecelia for a while. Cashmere agreed that Sanguin’s experience with Annie was probably enough to bring her back to reality. They’re teenagers, tributes in the Hunger Games, they can’t control anything, much less try and play god. 

As soon as the first conversation was over, Cashmere started a second one about Finnick. Which made you groan with a, “It’s not that important, Cash.” But she wouldn’t let it go until you answered her questions. She hasn’t been able to ask you all the juicy details in private like she’s really wanted to.

There’s not much to tell. You let her know that Finnick was asking about you to Gloss while you weren’t there yesterday. And the night before you spent hours talking on the balcony after Bauhinia died. The two of you came to the conclusion that Finnick is deciding that he’s going to stay for a while–which you’d partially come up with by yourself yesterday.

Cashmere said it was a good sign, good for you when it comes to mentoring and the boarding school. You can finally chill out and be there for Alyssum more after school instead of relying on Reed and Mox to take care of her all the time, “You don’t want to be the absent older sister, trust me.” She’s right, it would be a shame to be so focused on saving other teenagers in District four, and completely miss out on Alyssum’s innocence while she still has it. A couple more years and she’s enrolling into the boarding school early.

After that was over, you went ahead and got Finnick before you would be too exhausted to get up this morning. Your attempts were, obviously, futile, as you hardly slept last night and you’re tired anyway. Finnick’s lucky you’re reliable, otherwise you would have considered staying in bed for a little while longer. What ruined that idea is the sweltering heat of the fucking Tribute Center. 

And since the betting room is quite literally under a glass roof, you can’t imagine that it’s very cold in there, either. In fact, you’re sure that it’s going to be worse. Which now makes you partially consider changing into a pair of shorts so you’re not stuck sweating the entire day. The tank top is nice, but it only brings you so far.

Ugh.

Sanguin is up and at it already, heading towards the woods in the direction of the stream. Figures that she wouldn’t wait a little while to give herself time to heal. She’s always on top of it, always moving. A part of you wonders if she put on healing cream as soon as she got up this morning, or if she’s waiting to do it later tonight.

Either way, she’s got a full backpack again, her sword is propped up against her shoulder with the blade flat. Exactly how she’d carried it before she went and murdered the boy from Three. To think that was only two days ago is fucking insane, it feels like forever. But you guess that’s just what happens when you get back to back days of absolute mayhem.

The Seven tributes are wandering around, heading into their own personal uncharted territory of the left side. Well, actually there’s a lot where they haven’t been before, always keeping to their safe bubble. It’s not a bad strategy, but they can get away with it for so long. The gamemakers don’t like comfortable. Comfortable means you need to be pushed outside of your boundaries and experience new things.

As for Nine girl, you think she’s unintentionally stalking the District Seven tributes, with how she’s trailing them. She could very well be tracking, but the path that Seven is leaving isn’t all that obvious. It’s too obvious to be a coincidence, maybe she’s just trying to play it off that way? Or see where District Seven leads her? You’re surprised she isn’t cloud watching today. She’s sitting pretty, does she really need to follow the other tributes around?

You eat your sandwiches, watching the tributes move around inside of the arena. Annie stays put, Sanguin gets closer to the stream, Seven is nearly in the section all the way off to the left. When you’re done eating, you have the avoxes pack up some sandwiches for your friends inside of the betting room, and get ready to go.

You take one step towards the door, before you’re stuck where you are, watching what’s unfolding on the screen. 

Uncharted territory can be dangerous for obvious reasons. The tributes don’t know what they’re heading into, which means that they don’t know what to expect. Foreign animals, plants, traps set up by the gamemakers to ensure a pleasant surprise. Heading off into the unknown means that you’re expecting unpredictable situations. Anything can happen the moment you’re no longer in your safe space.

Because of this, it’s important to keep a schedule. Let the gamemakers come to you, they’ll be playing on your side of the court for this reason. But walk right into what they want, you’re subjected to their own house of horrors. And the only way of making it out alive, is fighting for freedom, or hoping your counterpart isn’t as good as you are.

The gamemakers hardly ever allow both tributes live. If they did that, it would take away the entire entertainment aspect. Not allow the Capitol people to see tributes like Annie fall apart at the seams because she doesn’t have her best friend around her anymore. You’re not sure what’s so fun about a depressed, sleep-deprived teenager but… to each their own.

Seven girl is leading, with the male tribute just behind her. Everything appears to be just fine, there’s no visual signs that they’re about to be submerged into frigid waters. Then they’re warned, a howl loud and clear, telling them to turn back and go away now, before they continue to make the mistake that they’re working on.

Maybe the tributes don’t hear the wolves, maybe they’re so caught up in their own heads that the silence breaking doesn’t register. Or maybe they choose to ignore it, because it’s a couple of wolves, and animals tend to run away once they realize that there’s something much bigger trying to challenge them. Because of their blatant obliviousness, they’ve fucked themselves over.

They’re not any ordinary wolves. They’re Capitol-made and controlled mutts.

The first one breaks through the trees, huge, black, eyes belonging to the devil himself. The girl catches sight of the genetically mutated mutts, comes to a complete stop, and then spins herself around. She takes off running, grabbing onto her district partners arm, snapping him out of his daydreaming daze, bringing him right back to reality.

They run together, arms pumping at their sides. The boy doesn’t care what path he takes, through thickets, thorns, and between trees that shouldn’t be possible to squeeze past. The girl however, is more careful about where she goes, thinking that it’ll help her move quickly, knowing where she’s stepping and that the path is definitely clear. It’s working the other way around. For once, a lack of carelessness is going to be the downfall of a tribute.

She falls behind, the wolves gaining on them both more and more. The pounding of their paws against the dirt is loud enough for the Capitol cameras to pick up. Like a heartbeat, a steady thrum against the ground. It’s also a telling sign that the Seven girl needs to give up her act or accept her death.

It’s frustrating, especially since she doesn’t even seem to notice her mistakes. One of the first rules of being chased is always being aware of how close they are. She doesn’t have to do it by looking behind her, which is always a mistake the idiots seem to make. She can just hear the footsteps all by themselves, getting louder and louder. Doesn’t she have any will to live?

If she does, she doesn’t get a chance to prove it. The lead wolf uses its hindlegs to launch itself at her. It’s mouth unhinges like a python snake, revealing rows of sharp teeth, drool coming out as a long string. It pounces on Seven girl, snarling, and bites straight into the back of her neck. The screaming is loud, you wince and sit back down at the dining room table.

The wolves around the leader continue after Seven boy, which comes as a fair surprise to you. But then again, the girl isn’t necessarily dead just yet. As soon as that cannon goes off, it’s like a whistle to the dogs. They’ll all go back to whatever hell hole they crawled out of. They might even be used a different year, for the exact same purpose that they’re serving now.

The leader bites down, and whips its head to the side. A mouthful of flesh rips out of the girl, her scream loud enough to be heard as a warning to both Seven boy, and Nine girl. Run, and run fast if you want to survive. The blood coats the tree bark around the girl, drips off the flesh that was previously attached to her body. Her hands twitch, eyes open and rolling to the back of her head.

It’s more or less the same situation that Bauhinia was in. But instead of it being done by another tribute, which will definitely leave a permanent impression on mentors and future tributes alike, this is being done by a mutt. The Capitol has specifically engineered these guys to do this. Bite, rip, rinse, repeat. Seven girl’s screams start off loud, but slowly die out like she’s lost her voice.

The next wolf that is leading on Seven boy, jumps at him just like the last wolf did to Seven girl. However this time, instead of all the other surrounding wolves continuing forward, they swarm and maul the boy. Their teeth are just as sharp, but without all the rows. You’d say that his situation is better, but he’s got more mutts going at him from different angles, with no time to breathe in between bites. 

By the time that Seven girl does die, allowing the wolves to go home, the boy is severely hurt. Puncture wounds from the teeth, shredded skin, half his face is missing. He doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even make a noise. He just lays in the grass like he’s already dead, the only thing keeping him from being collected by the gamemakers like his district partner, is the cannon. 

He’s a living soul in his corpse of a body. 

It’s like sleep paralysis. He can’t speak, can’t move. He’s stuck where he is, like a suffering dog that just needs to be put out of his misery. But there’s no one to do it. You all will just get the pleasure of watching this poor boy wheeze and bleed. Doesn’t mean much for entertainment, his life is practically over.

The only tribute that’s nearby is Nine girl. But there’s no promise that she was following the Seven tributes in the first place. It looked like it, now you’ll just have to wait and see if it was true. This could take hours, and she has a bigger chance of accidentally missing him than stumbling upon him in the bushes. It’s not like he’s being loud.

You stand up from the table again, “I’ve got to get downstairs before anything else happens.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

You go down the steps and through the door. You punch the elevator button, head down to where the betting room is, bad quietly walk down the hallway. It’s all barren cement, no one hangs out here, and the peacekeepers standing outside of the door are required. Just in case a few mentors get too upset, because the Capitol people hardly ever care about rivalries.

The moment you open the door, a cool breeze hits your face. No wonder why the Tribute Center is so hot, the betting room is hogging all of the air conditioning. The glass ceiling is now blocked by a white cover to reflect the sun and ensure that you all won’t be sweating like pigs. Because of the cover, it’s dark, which is why there’s colored lights strung up on hooks. Almost like Christmas lights, but somehow less fun and more sophisticated.

Finnick and Gloss are already sitting at a white table, so you head over and drop the basket of food in the middle. 

“Did you see what happened?” Finnick asks, watching as you unload the basket.

“Yeah, Elysia and I watched it together.” You then move the basket off the table and onto the floor, sitting down and crossing your legs, “I guess the gamemakers were bored.”

“Or they have a vendetta against the Seven mentors.” Gloss cocks his head in the direction of where they’re standing off to the side. Arms crossed, angry faces. They’ve been screwed over, you can’t really blame them. Their tributes couldn’t even defend themselves, “Thanks for the lunch.”

“Figured you guys were hungry.” you look at Finnick, “What are you making of Annie?”

He shrugs, uncapping the bottled fizzy drink, “Well, besides the obvious fact that she’s some form of depressed, I think she’s in shock. How long did her and Marsh know each other?”

“They were only a year apart. So, since Annie was fourteen and he was thirteen.”

“Four years.” Gloss says, “A long time to build a friendship. What about you and Finnick, how long did you two know each other prior to your Hunger Games? I remember you guys being mentioned as friends at some point.”

You make a face, not entirely sure, “Well, I was a sophomore and he was a freshman…”

“Middle school?” Finnick proposes, but he doesn’t look confident either, “Only a year or whatever. We mostly saw each other in the hallway, and then it went on from that after my girlfriend dumped me.”

“Which one?” you ask, half-kidding, half-serious.

Finnick gives you a look, “I don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember which girlfriend?” Gloss asks.

You snort, “He has brain damage from all the girls he’s gone through. I can name fifteen he went through while we were just friends.”

“It was not fifteen!” Finnick defends, face turning a shade of red, “Probably only five or something.”

“Probably.” Gloss has a smile on his face, clearly enjoying Finnick’s discomfort.

“Finnick, just trust me for once when I say that it was fifteen.” You muse.

“Except there weren’t fifteen girls in my class that liked me like that. I should know.” 

You and Gloss share a look, and then laugh. He wouldn’t know, it’s not always obvious when girls have crushes on people. Girls learn to hide it when the guy or girl they like is after someone else in that moment. You wouldn’t be surprised if his entire grade of girls had liked him, and only a quarter of them showed it. Finnick thinking that he’s aware of everything is a complete joke.

The Afternoon Line Odds say that all the remaining tributes are standing where they were yesterday. There’s only four tributes inside of the games, about to be three as soon as Seven boy is gone. Annie, Sanguin and Nine girl, who you really need to find a name for to make it all easier to say. 

“Do you guys know the name of the girl from Nine?” you ask, running a hand through your hair for any snarls that might exist in your ponytail.

Gloss’ face scrunches up, eyes finding the Line Odds too, “Uh…”

Finnick tilts his head from side to side, also thinking. They’re just as clueless as you are. You can’t even remember if anyone mentioned her name outside of the training score and interviews. Everyone normally stops paying attention after District Four, for obvious reasons. No one can really compare. The only person you think would know her name is Annie, mostly because she likes to keep track of stuff like that.

It’s not like you can really ask her. And you can’t really pull a name out of thin air, anyway. When it comes to the districts, you guys have ridiculous names just as much as people in the Capitol do. Gloss? Cashmere? Enobaria? What about Anchor and Marsh? Even Sanguin’s name isn’t really a name. It’s an adjective, based off the word sanguine, which means positivity or something dumb like that.

Of course, this philosophy can’t apply to everyone. Finnick’s name is normal, so is Mags, Luther, Scotch, Wade and Cecelia. It only really falls apart when it comes to last names, like Gallows or Golding. At some time or another, you all came from the Capitol, or you great grandparents changed their last names to make them more fierce during the rebellion. That last part is especially true when it comes to your family.

You don’t remember the original last name, just that Gallows wasn’t inherited through a husband. Your great-grandmother had changed it after the nickname she got from the people around her in District Four. She was in on the plan before the rebellion had even started, and got a head start when it came to taking out peacekeepers and Capitol officers in the district. It was suspicious after a while, how every single one of them committed suicide the same way, one by one. After all the known Capitol people were gone, she was onto traitors, and she was good at finding them.

Hanging people from rope relates to the gallows. However, after the rebellion failed, she wasn’t able to go back to her regular life. With the conspicuous last name, and the way that people would talk when she came around, her position was found quickly. She was a wanted woman inside of District Four by high-standing officers. By then, she’d already birthed your grandmother, who was being held at someone else’s house during the day, and went unfound by the peacekeepers when they went looking to wipe out your family.

Your great-grandparents died, as well as any of their siblings, grandchildren, cousins, whatever. The only person left was your grandmother, who got sent into the foster care system with the last name still attached. And since there was no family to help her revert back to the original last name, she just kept Gallows out of spite. What are the peacekeepers going to do eighteen years after the fact? Kill her? She was a baby when it happened, wouldn’t even be able to recall the details, much less looked like she had an inkling to continue her mother’s murder path.

It’s a fun story to tell to the older kids, you know that your brothers enjoyed it when they got to exaggerate every little detail and add in facts of their own. As you got older, they filtered out the bullshit to make it more believable. Even now, the entire story seems like it’s out of some dark fairytale or something. With no happy ending.

“I think it starts with a T.” Finnick says.

“Huh?” you ask, looking at him.

“The girl’s name.” 

“I think you’re right!” Gloss says, he’s rubbing his forehead, “What the fuck was it?”

“Something stupid that ended in a vowel.”

“That starts with a T?” your face twists.

Finnick hums for a moment, listening as Gloss tries out names. Then, Finnick’s face lights up entirely, slamming his hands on the table, “Tekla!”

“Tekla?” Gloss pauses for a moment, “Oh fuck, you’re right.”

You nod slowly, taking their word for it. So, Seven boy, Tekla, Sanguin and Annie. The boy dies, it only leaves the three girls. What an accomplishment, to completely unintentionally wipe out the guys. You don’t want to say that they’re a bigger opponent, but they typically have an upper hand when it comes to fighting. It’s like they’ve been taking drugs.

Finnick and Gloss eat their lunch, you all come down with your final predictions on what’s going to happen inside of the arena. You all think that Sanguin and Annie will be fine, since they’re miles apart and both caught in their own worlds at the moment. The real problem is Tekla and her moving around so often. She knows that Sanguin is alone in the cornucopia by herself, and she also knows that she could sneak up on Sanguin since she has a weapon of her own. Courtesy of when the careers had left the cornucopia alone.

Seven boy is still alive an hour and a half later. Tekla has slowed down in the direction she was heading. She doesn’t look unsure, more that she’s lost motivation, you guess? Or maybe she’s lost the path that the Seven tributes were taking before they stumbled into the Capitol trap. Either way, there’s no telling whether or not she’ll actually be able to find the boy.

Every time you think that the boy has finally breathed for the final time, he inhales sharply, like he’s being pushed back into his body. It’s a shame, watching him struggle like this. You’re sure that he should be dead by now, well past his expiration date. Hell, soon the bugs are going to start to get to him. If you thought the wolves were bad, watching him being eaten alive is going to be worse. Much, much worse.

“I’m going to use the bathroom.” Gloss says, gathering the trash, “I’ll be back.”

“Don’t have too much fun.” you smile, he gives you a mock look before leaving. You turn to Finnick, “I’m thinking of going out and drinking after this. You wanna come?”

“With or without Gloss?” Finnick asks, eyebrows drawing in.

“If it were with Gloss, I would’ve asked while he was here.” you wiggle your eyebrows, “Come on. Me and you, at that awful drinking place, The Victory Speech.”

He purses his lips, “You think it’s a good idea?”

“Annie’s safe inside of her house, what’s the worst that can happen overnight?”

“The dam breaks?”

“You think that the Capitol would do that right after mauling two tributes to death?” you look at the timer above the Morning Line Odds that says how long the tributes have been in there for. It’s a couple hours less than seven days, “The games haven’t been even going for a week, they’ll want to draw it out for a little while longer.”

Finnick gives you a look.

“Don’t start acting like a parent, I’m older than you.” you point at him, “Yes or no. Or I’ll ask Gloss and Cashmere–”

“Yes.” Finnick says.

You grin, “You won’t have some sort of relapse, right?”

“Haha.” he rolls his eyes, “Ready to get shitfaced off the water-tasting alcohol?”

“I am going to have three of those in a row just to see what happens.” you laugh, he does too.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. You’ll give yourself alcohol poisoning.”

“I’ll probably be fine.” You shrug, “Won’t be my first near-death experience.”

Finnick cracks up, shaking his head.

It’s only another thirty minutes before Tekla does come across Seven boy by accident. She wouldn’t have even known he was there if it weren’t for the wheeze he let out as a warning before she stepped on him. He’s hidden under bushes, camouflaged in. The only obvious sign that he’s there is his legs, but even then, they were easily missed by Tekla.

She stands over him, eyebrows drawn in. Her eyes will occasionally flicker up like she’s looking for someone, like it’s some sort of trap and a tribute is waiting for her to be off her guard to attack. Unfortunately, it’s none of those things. Just bad luck, and horrible timing. She crouches down next to him, face twisting as she carefully moves leaves out of the way to see him properly. 

“Gross.” she says, “I don’t even know how you’re still alive.” Tekla shakes her head like she’s getting rid of her thoughts, standing back up on her feet, “It’s over now. Rest easy.”

She raises her weapon and puts him out of his misery. A second cannon goes off, making Sanguin stop in her tracks, looking up at the sky for a moment. The Fallen won’t show until later tonight, but the tributes all have the same reactions, anyway. It’s because the sound comes from above them, so naturally they’re going to want to see where it comes from.

As for Annie, she barely snaps back to life long enough to squint, allow wrinkles to appear on her face, and then she relaxes again. She sets her head back against the wall and closes her eyes, gripping onto her sword tightly. You wonder if she came to the conclusion that she’s one of the final three inside of the arena now. Annie’s made it, she’s beaten all the tributes from District Four that came before her.

Hang in there, Annie. You’ll be home soon.


	9. Chapter 9

If it weren’t for the irritating sun rays landing right on your face and into your eyes, you’d bask in this warm feeling forever. It’s like receiving an embrace from spring, herself. Bright sunlight, tolerable temperatures, bees, flowers, sundresses, picnics and comfortable afternoons in the park with your family. You can’t count how many good memories you have from grass fields and playgrounds in District Four.

Watching Alyssum run around the park, making friends and being a kid while she can is the most satisfying part. You can watch her for hours, lose yourself in her carelessness. Your sister hasn’t got a worry in the world to think about, it makes you envy her. A nice house, warm meals, a loving family. None of you are perfect, but you try to be for her.

There’s a lot she’s going to be missing out on already when it comes to parents. She has you, Reed and Mox to fill those roles for her. You’d like to say she can’t miss something she’s never experienced, you’d be lying, though. You miss a regular teenage life that you never got to live, thanks to the Hunger Games. The Capitol is always ruining something, even if they’re not actively trying.

Which brings you back to reality. As much as you’d like to lay here in the soft blankets and keep to your warm spot on the bed, you’ve got to get moving. If the sun is in your eyes already, it only means that your time is up when it comes to sleeping. Like a natural alarm clock, only somehow more annoying, even if it’s not loud and in your face.

You turn onto your back, slowly opening your eyes. You’re met with a white ceiling, smooth and crack-free. Back home in your room, your ceiling has plenty of cracks. When you don’t feel like getting up immediately, you’ll play a game with yourself. See which ones will start on one side of the room and make it to the other. You’ve gotten good at it, and confidently say that there’s a few that go beyond that, they go to the windowsill. 

With a gentle sigh, you sit up on the bed, turned toward the window, stretching your arms above your head. It feels good to get the blood pumping through your arms and shoulders again. You can’t really help it when the stretch extends down to your legs. A low moan leaves your lips, and stops dead in your throat when your thighs begin to hurt.

You hum, standing on your feet. It hurts at first, but the more you move around the room, the better you begin to feel. You stare out of the window for a couple of seconds to see that the Capitol is already alive. It’s definitely past noon at this point. So much for a rotating schedule with Finnick, you’ve already ruined it.

You look over the room you’re in, which definitely isn’t your own. It’s Finnick’s, with the bamboo bed frame, white sheets and the hammock across his room. You used to hear him say how much he enjoyed your room over his, something about the ceiling to floor windows that you have. Takes up an entire wall, gives you a great view of the city. Better than the tiny windows he has lining the wall.

The clock says that it’s a little after two. You two really have got to start moving before you miss out on anything inside of the arena. Not to mention, poor Gloss is sitting down there alone. He hasn’t had a friend to sit with since six this morning. A whole eight hours can be boring as hell, and quite frankly, lonely. He might have resorted talking to the sponsors, at this point.

Finnick is still sleeping on the bed, of course. His back is turned to the sun, explaining why he hasn’t woken up just yet. It’s not going to stay that way for very long. You’d leave him sleeping up here if it weren’t for the fact that it’s entertaining to see him hungover. It’s not often you get to see him like that, and you’re not really willing to pass up an opportunity. Plus, you might as well keep him around as company so it doesn’t get awkward later.

Before you wake him up, you find and put on your bra. He got to see all of you last night, there’s no reason to continue to walk around shirtless. You pick up your pants, and tank top, as your shoes are kicked off by the door. You begin to pull on your jeans, having to bounce slightly to pull them up all the way, when Finnick rolls over.

He groans, throwing his arm over his face to keep the sun from getting in his face. You’re satisfied to see that he’s about to get the same unpleasant wakening that you got, until you realize that his arm completely blocks out the light. What a shame, you were looking forward to watching him come to life like a zombie.

“Hey,” your voice is soft, not really wanting to disturb the peace. He doesn’t seem to hear you, or maybe you’re too quiet. You speak a little louder, “We should probably get down to the betting room, check on our tributes.”

Finnick freezes, and then jolts upright. His wide eyes land on you easily, face twisting as he slowly thinks over the scene in front of him. You pull on your tank top, raising your eyebrows as you wait for him to come to the conclusion himself. After a couple more seconds, he hums out a small tune and falls back onto his pillows, closing his eyes.

“I thought I was still at a client’s house for a second.” he breathes.

“Good morning,” you muse, “How are you feeling?”

“Besides the pounding headache, my back’s pretty messed up.” his eyes open, giving you a sly smirk. You grab one of his shoes, which aren’t as close to the door as yours are, and chuck it at him. Finnick laughs loudly, catching the shoe before it makes a hole in the wall, “I’m fine, considering that I finished half of your drink last night on top of mine.”

“One of us had to be responsible, and I figured that you wouldn’t want to be the one.”

“The next time we go out, I’m going to make you loosen up.” Finnick says.

“If you’re calling me uptight, I’ll shove a stick up your ass so you can see how it feels.” you lean against the wall.

He rolls his eyes, getting out of bed. He’s got a pair of boxers on, so he’s not completely naked either, “How are you feeling?”

“Well rested, actually. Your bed is pretty comfortable.”

“You’re welcome to sleep here any time.” Finnick says, kicking yesterday’s jeans into the corner, as well as the shirt.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” you snort, collecting your shoes, “I’m going to take a shower and get ready. I’ll see you in the dining room.”

“Sure.”

You leave his room, shutting the door behind you. In your own, you quickly change and throw the dirty clothes off to the side for easy collecting when the avoxes come around later. It’s not as hot inside of the Tribute Center as it was yesterday, but the heat is still apparent enough to be one of the first things on your mind. You settle for a pair of shorts, sandals and a white tank top.

You throw the pile of clothes onto the bathroom countertop. The door whooshes shut behind you, sending a cold breeze of air straight to your back. Much like yesterday, you turn the shower water to cold, just on the verge of being warm. You decide to skip getting your hair wet, since you don’t really have time to mess around. It’s a quick wash with sweet smelling soaps before you’re out again.

As you’re drying yourself with the cyan blue towel, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. And with what you see the first time briefly, you have to go back to check that you saw correctly. A scowl appears on your face when you get closer, fingers gently brushing against your collarbone. Little dark marks litter your skin. 

You press your lips together, staring for a couple of seconds longer. You have no choice, you have to cover these up. So, you pull on your clothes and get to work with the makeup, trying to find colors that’ll cancel out the hickey colors. You spend a good ten minutes blending, color correcting, and starting over when it’s too obvious. When you’re finally done, you can still tell that they’re there, but it won’t be the first thing anyone sees when they look at you.

You’d just wear a regular shirt if it weren’t for the fact that you’re already sweating with the tanktop on. You put on the sandals on your way out, making sure your ring is secured on your hand. Finnick is already sitting at the dining room table when you get out there, hair wet and he’s dressed in pink and white.

“Took you long enough.” he says, stabbing his fork into a pancake piece and placing it in his mouth.

You glare as you sit down on the chair, “I had a problem. Actually, you gave me a couple of problems and I solved them.”

His face twists, eyeing you now, trying to find the difference. When a plate of pancakes is served in front of you, plate hot to the touch, you cut up the pancakes, slightly amused by his determination to try and prove you wrong. Does he really think that he’ll be able to? You’ve gone through this plenty of times before with Anchor.

Finnick shrugs, “Whatever you say.”

At least now you have insurance that you did a good job. Finnick might be some type of moronic but that doesn’t mean he misses details. It’s the small things that you have to look out for. Another skill that you need when you’re mentoring, another thing to add to the list that you’ve gotten good at after these years. From what you remember, Finnick’s not too bad at it, himself.

The avox turns on the tv without either of you asking, but you thank him anyway. As you go for fruits instead of syrup this morning, you catch up on the arena with Finnick. Sanguin is in the cornucopia, a fire going in front of her. She’s got some sort of animal skewered using her sword, roasting it over the fire. She looks pissed, staring into the fire, letting the flames flicker in her eyes. 

You’d like to say that she finally lost her mind, but she lost it a long time ago. Way before Bauhinia. Maybe while she was being strategically trained to think that the other tributes in the arena were animals? Or maybe when she volunteered for the Hunger Games like it would be a walk in the park? It’s hard to say exactly, there’s a lot of moments in these past few weeks where she could’ve gone wrong.

At any rate, she’s got enough water to last her a while. You can confidently say that she won’t be leaving the cornucopia unless it’s to get more food. There’s no way that the sponsors are going to cough up any money just for her to eat. Especially when she’s supposed to be trained for the arena. She should know how to hunt and gather. Besides, you’re sure that Gloss would want them to wait until it’s something important, like that healing cream. Even then, it took a couple of people to pitch in. The prices are getting amped up, it’s harder to pay for things now.

You have a feeling that she’s sitting down there for a reason, instead of going off and trying to hunt down any other tributes. She’s healed by now, you watched her put more healing cream on her body last night before she decided to call it a night. Which means that this morning, the entire wound has got to be gone. She’s still going to be sore when moving around, but that’s an obvious nuisance. She technically should be able to work through it.

So, if she’s not interested in hunting Tekla, that means she’s waiting for Annie to come out of the village. And you’d say that’s a pretty big problem, except for the fact that it’s not. Annie’s got plenty of food and water from her raid on the career backpacks and whatever Marsh was holding before he died. If she doesn’t want to, she won’t have to leave the house unless it’s for some sort of Capitol-generated emergency.

After yesterday, you can’t see them doing something like that. You don’t even think that both tributes dying were intentional. They like to watch the last couple of teens fight it out, since they’re the ones that are either: one, completely trained for the arena and know how to take another tribute out with a simple tree branch and a rock. Or, they’re completely lucky and know how to blend into their surroundings and stay there until the Capitol is forced to step in. They only do it when there’s been several days without any interaction between tributes and the Capitol citizens are starting to riot.

Those tributes are the ones that can go days without food. Water, not so much, but they’ll find a source nearby and stick with it as long as they can without getting suspicious. It’s not an impressive feat to go days without eating, it just goes to show the horrible living conditions inside of the other districts. Fortunately, your family hit rock bottom, but you never had to keep digging.

As for Annie, she’s still looking pretty dead inside of her house. She’s moved to a different corner that gives her a better look to see. It looks like she’ll doze off for a second before jerking upright, hand tightening around her sword. You saw her sleep last night, it was the whole reason why you and Finnick decided it was acceptable to leave the betting room in the first place. With the peace of mind of knowing that Annie was finally getting the rest she needed.

When you were at the bar, you didn’t really keep track of what was going on inside of the arena. Which, looking back on it, probably wasn’t a brilliant idea in the first place. If there was an emergency with Annie, knowing as soon as possible would’ve hypothetically saved her life. But you also just wanted one moment for yourself, with Finnick and a drink. It wasn’t much to ask for, and you’re sure that it was well-deserved. If it wasn’t, Annie would be dead in a ditch right now.

To some extent, she might as well be. While Sanguin is fueled with hate-fire right now–literally. Annie looks like her soul has been ripped out of her body. She’s pale, the previous kind girl light in her eyes is gone. She looks like a corpse, freshly pulled out of the coffin. You wish you’ve seen this before, because maybe that would make it easier to understand why she isn’t grieving like normal. Normally, tributes cry for hours, sometimes days until they have to pull it together to win. Annie is just… she’s completely lifeless. Actually, she looks like she’s given up with trying to survive inside of the arena. Which is a dangerous mindset to adapt, especially now.

Just two more tributes to burn through, all she has to do is hold on. Let Sanguin and Tekla fight it out, hope that one kills the other, and the one gets severely injured enough to bleed out and die. It would make the whole thing a lot easier on her, you know that. The last thing she’d probably need on her plate right now, is another death. She’s already got two genuinely impressive ones–taking out the male careers? You’re the only other person who has done that in the past five years. And she’s witnessed the death that would affect her, and it’s taking its toll already. It’s been two days.

Well, as long as Annie stays where she is, eats, drinks and sleeps when she needs to, she won’t have to worry about anything. However, this idea also goes for Sanguin, on the assumption that Tekla isn’t bold enough to go ahead and attack her uninvited. Sanguin’s also set for days–if she has extra food stored somewhere in the case of emergencies.

The only person that might get bored and start causing havoc is Tekla. She’s in the woods by herself, in a patch of grass unguarded by trees. She lays in the sun with her eyes closed, hands laced behind her head. Looking exactly like she did on the first couple of days inside of the arena. This time, she has a good reason to be carefree. Before, she had more than ten other tributes to worry about, all fighting to go home. Now it’s down to two others. It should be a walk in the park, if it weren’t for the fact that she’s being put up against two careers.

You wonder what her odds look like right now. They hadn’t changed last night, not even after she killed Seven boy. But now that it officially looks like she’s going to make it to one of the final fights and be crowned victor, she’s gotta have moved up. District Nine hasn’t had a victor in a long, long time. Their last one was a guy, and he’s the first male to be put into the mentor spot. If you remember correctly, there’s only five victors in Nine, which means that four of them are female. 

Figures that their new potential victor would be a girl, right?

It looks like you don’t really have anything to worry about arena-wise. Really, if you wanted to, you could just stay inside of the apartment. With half-alive Annie, vengeful Sanguin and cheerful Tekla, it’s safe to say that today’s a free day. Things could change, but that’s just your prediction. The only reason you’d have to go down to the betting room is to show up for Gloss, but he doesn’t really matter, does he? You can just go and see him tomorrow.

“You’ve got a look on your face.” Finnick says, your eyes find him to see that he’s staring.

“So?” you stab a strawberry and place it in your mouth, resisting the momentary sour expression before the sweetness takes over.

“It’s your indecisive look.”

Now, your face twists, “I do not have an indecisive look–”

He laughs, “It’s unmistakable! You get the look when you’re thinking over something important.”

“Like a decision?” you ask, trying to be serious, but you end up laughing.

He seems to let it go for a moment, until he’s looking at you again, “What was it?”

You shrug, “I was just thinking that we wouldn’t have to go down to the betting room if we didn’t want to. The silence in the arena gives us a couple of liberties that we wouldn’t have on a normal day.”

“Oh, so you do have a relaxed side.” Finnick thoroughly enjoys the face you make, raising your fist as a threat to punch him in the arm again. You wonder how far he can push you before you finally give him a nasty bruise, “And you also woke me up for nothing.”

“Technically you woke yourself, I just spoke.” you shrug, “Can I get some more coffee?”

“Might as well go back to bed while I can, then.” Finnick says, but he doesn’t move from where he’s sitting.

You wait, receive your coffee, and let him stare at you for a little while, “What are you waiting for?”

“It wouldn’t be responsible–” he mocks the word in your voice, “–to go back to bed, wouldn’t it?”

You glare, “Finnick, you have the night shift, anyway. Stay awake, go back to bed, get drunk at The Victory Speech, have dinner with Gloss, I don’t give a shit.”

“You seem like you want me to go away.” he says, “I think I’ll stick with you, then.”

“Fine by me.” you scoop up your coffee mug, taking it with you when you go downstairs to sit on the couch. You pull out a coaster to not ruin the pristine glass table.

There’s not much to watch the tributes do at all. Sanguin roasts her food, and you think she ends up daydreaming some, because she burns the bottom side of the meat. Doesn’t even wrinkle her nose or look fazed when she bites straight into that part, even when it disintegrates in her mouth the more she chews. After she’s done eating, she moves to the back of the cornucopia, hiding behind a stack of boxes to take a nap.

Annie turns her knife over in her hand, spinning it between her fingers before she knicks herself one too many times. After that, she settles for pulling out a line of rope from her backpack, tying and untying knots. It’s a common hobby that people use to soothe anxiety and pass time when there’s nothing else to do. Doesn’t surprise you that she’s resorted to this. Although, you do begin to worry slightly when you watch her jump at the slightest of sounds and nearly get up every single time to check.

You’d say it’s a reasonable response, thinking that Sanguin is after her. But the house creaks the same way every time, lets out the same groan each time the wind blows too hard. It’s not like they’re new sounds. She should’ve picked up on this by now, realized that there’s no need to get ready to hurry into battle. Watching her grab her knife, lean forward, and listen for any other sounds over and over begins to make you feel antsy.

“There’s something wrong with Annie.” Finnick says.

You hum, “Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

“What do you think it is?”

You shake your head, “Still working on that idea.”

“Anything you’ve seen before?”

“If I have, I don’t remember.” You lean back into the couch, “Let’s just wait and see how bad it gets.”

And the truth is, it gets worse, because it can always get worse. The good news is that you’ve figured out how to help her, on top of figuring out the problem in the first place. The bad news is that it requires a sponsor. And like you said earlier, all the prices have gone up. Getting one now would be a nightmare, but you have to try anyway.

As you go down to the betting room with Finnick, you think it over.

Annie is suffering from paranoia. She’s obviously shell-shocked from watching Marsh die, otherwise she would be acting normally. You guess that allowing two tributes that have known each other for a handful of years, go inside of the arena together wasn’t the brightest idea. But it’s not like you could control it. You don’t think that they even planned for it to happen, it was just a coincidence.

This is just one part of the problem, watching Marsh die. She also might be feeling guilty because she didn’t try harder to keep him from going. It makes the most sense. She tried to convince him to stay, but the second he showed resistance, she caved and followed. Guilt like this will haunt someone forever. If she wins, she’ll be stuck with thinking that Marsh could’ve gone a better way.

You know this, because you carry around a considerable amount of guilt, too.

The last part, concerning Annie, is the fact that she hasn’t slept in a while. Paranoia feeds off insomnia. Getting an hour or two of sleep after watching your friend die right in front of you, in arguably one of the worst ways possible, is an unfortunate series of events. She can’t prevent not being able to sleep, so you’ll just help her as best as you can.

When you presented all of this to Finnick, he agreed. Said that he was thinking something along the lines of what you are. The only hiccup that he’s worried about is finding sponsors wealthy enough to sponsor this late into the games. They also have to be betting on her too, so that if she does win, they’ll get the return in full. 

The betting room seems slightly busier than usual. Like you predicted earlier, Gloss decided to go ahead and take company in the Capitol people. Tekla’s mentor seems busy off in the corner, with people that don’t look like they nearly have enough money to sponsor this late in the game. It wouldn’t be any use trying to steal them, just a waste of time.

Gloss knows people, but that would mean to interrupt what he’s doing right now, which seems fairly important. The group of people that Finnick had approved of is thin, pooling their money together wouldn’t even buy a loaf of bread. Much less what you’re thinking about right now.

It only leaves a couple of people, ones you haven’t talked to in days. You stop a couple of steps inside of the room, allowing Finnick to come in and shut the door behind him. He waits there for a moment, before coming around the side.

“What are you waiting for?” His voice is slightly hushed. No one has really taken notice of your appearance just yet. If needed, you could probably slip out the door and no one would know the difference. 

You look at him.

You made an agreement, take his advice on who to be around and who to stay away from, and he’ll help you. You thought that it would be easy then, because you didn’t need the sponsors. Annie and Marsh had a strategy down, they didn’t look like they’d be needed help anytime soon. They had everything they needed at the moment. But now that Annie needs something more, you’re stuck.

Having Finnick around to be a second body, a second pair of hands and eyes and ears, has made a difference. You’ve slept well, you’ve been allowed to hang out with friends when given the opportunity, and you can finally pace yourself. No more running around like it’s life or death, or being afraid to sleep because an arena is particularly dangerous. 

However, you can do it alone. Annie’s needs right now is going to come before whatever requirements Finnick has. Bringing a tribute home is crucial, buddying with Finnick is a perk. If he gets mad at you for this, there’s always next year.

“I need you to come with me and not intervene, or go back upstairs.” You say, squeezing the finger your ring is on.

His face twists, “It depends—“

“No. You go upstairs, or you don’t intervene.” You start towards the sponsors, “I mean it, Finnick.” 

You’re not even halfway across the room before they spot you. You smile at them, letting them welcome you. When you don’t feel Finnick’s presence behind you like normal, you turn to look. The door is sweeping shut, you briefly catch a glimpse of him leaving. 

The sponsors are happy to see you again, you talk with them for a while, and watch what goes on inside of the arena. It’s all small talk, or questions about what you feel like is going to happen. Until they finally bring up Annie, how she’s doing. And just because you can’t hold it in, you spill it all out, being completely honest with them. 

Annie is hurting right now, and she can’t help it. She can’t simply fall asleep because she’s afraid of the nightmares and the vulnerability that comes with it. There’s always the possibility that her body simply isn’t letting her sleep, too. She’s not physically tired, so why would she lay down and try? So, you think that if you find something that’ll make her drowsy, she’ll feel more inclined to.

You can’t guarantee that it’ll work, but it’s worth a try if it means that she wins the games, right? The sponsors seem to think so, and with a budget, you bring them over to the sponsoring table. Everything under the sun is allowed to be sent to them. Name it, and thye’re probably have it. It’s just the price that makes it impossible to work around.

You know for sure that pills are out of the question. The second you see the price, you’re switching gears. Medicine? Maybe. You look at all the options they have for tributes for when they’re sick. You’ve seen a handful of these brands in District Four, all of them expensive. With the money that the Capitol gives you, you can finally afford them. Which means that Alyssum doesn’t have to suffer through colds like before. The medicine works wonders, but the Capitol version will be too much for her to handle. It might as well be a tranquilizer.

Something more natural, then. Those are always cheaper. You go through it, seeing the little vials of brightly colored liquids and the contents. Ones to make you throw up, give adrenaline if the tribute is dying, allergy medicine to save them from anaphylactic shock. And finally, one for sleeping. Without a moment of hesitance, you tap on it.

They all pitch in a certain amount, allowing the vial to be covered in full. You thank them, with assurance that it won’t go to waste. Annie is a tough tribute, she’ll be able to win. All she needs is a little sleep to reset her body, hopefully start her over. It’s like shutting something completely off before trying again.

You take a breath before writing on the paper, ‘Drink it all’.

You get to stand back and watch as the gamemakers find the best way to send it to her. You don’t doubt that she’ll hear the noise that the gifts make. Especially if she’s hearing noises that aren’t being picked up on the microphones. It’s where they have to drop it off to make sure it doesn’t get caught on anything on the way down, like a corner of a roof.

The chiming is a sound that you still hear in your nightmares. You watch as the silver parachute glides through the air, slowly moving between the houses. At first, it doesn’t seem to alarm Annie, but then she jolts, pauses to make sure she’s hearing it right, and then gets up. She shoves her knife into her belt, carefully goes down the stairs so that it doesn’t break beneath her.

She looks more alive like this, the color has returned to her face slightly, she’s got a smile hinting at the corner of her lips. When she finally comes out of the house, swinging the door open and letting in the natural light, she cries out in shock and covers her eyes. She mutters out a few curse words, squinting through the sun until her eyes adjust.

She spots the gift in the middle of the walkway. The smile grows more, scooping the tin into her hand. She gives the area around her a little look-around before disappearing back into the house, shutting the door and locking it. Even though it looks like the lock won’t do much for her anymore. The doorknob is practically falling off.

She makes it all the way to the third floor, back into the corner of her room. She slips down the wall and pops open the lid of the container. The first thing that Annie sees inside is the note, which she reads over carefully before moving it out of the way for the vial. It’s small, not at all as big as they normally sell them earlier on, but those ones also have the tendency to knock a person out for a whole day. This will just keep her asleep for a few hours, maybe the entire night if she drinks it now. You hope that she’ll be up at a reasonable time tomorrow.

Annie uncaps it carefully, and takes a small sniff. You can’t imagine that she recognizes the smell, even though it is sort-of distinct. If the medicine is fresh, it’ll usually smell sweet. If it’s not, then it’s stale, maybe a little sour. Obviously, one is more desirable than the other, but it works the same either way. Whether or not it’s fresh doesn’t affect the way it works.

When Annie is satisfied with the smell, she goes ahead and caps it again. There’s no directions, so she’s going to have to decide how she wants to do this. The sun will be setting in an hour, maybe two. Annie eats some dry foods, drinks some water. It’s smart, her wanting to get food into her body beforehand. If it were you, you probably would’ve just settled for drinking it straight, it might have worked faster that way.

She drinks it, slipping to the floor. She pulls the sleeping bag over herself, closing her eyes. It’s going to take a second to kick in, but it’s enough time for you to go upstairs and out of the betting room. You’ll be back down here bright and early tomorrow, there’s no point spending more time than you have to.

You thank the sponsors, shake hands and exchange hugs. Before you leave the room, you see that the Afternoon Line Odds are all the same. Sanguin’s is 2-1, Annie is 3-1, Tekla is 7-1. All very good odds, but not as good as Sanguin. Hopefully, that’ll change within the next couple of days. You leave the room before Gloss can see that you’re down there.

You spent a good hour or so just talking to the sponsors. The fastest part was getting them to agree on sending Annie a gift. It wasn’t nearly as bad as you thought it would be. Finnick makes all of them out to be like criminals, constantly looking for their next fix. But they understand that you’re not like that. They can have their eyes on you all they want, it’s not going to happen. 

Just before you go inside of the apartment, you’re sure that Finnick isn’t going to be out in the living room, or he’s not going to be inside of the apartment all together. However, when you step inside, you’re surprised to see that he’s on the couch, his arms crossed. He doesn’t bother to look over, not even after you shut the door. You almost feel guilty for doing what you did.

Almost.

You sit on the couch next to him, pull your legs up beneath you, and sit in silence. There’s no point to try and talk to him right now. You know that he’d probably like a moment to cool off. It might even be better if you didn’t sit in here at all, so he won’t be fuming next to you. But it’s not like you have much of a choice. You can’t just go back downstairs and sit in the betting room, that would be stupid. If Finnick’s right about the sponsors, there’s no reason to stay around them more than you have to.

So, silence it is. It’s a while before either of you have anything to talk about. Annie should be asleep by now, an entire hour later. There’s no way that the vial would take more than five minutes, even with a full stomach. Still, you watch as her eyes open, a frown appearing on her face, eyebrows turning in.

Your mouth falls open, you stand from the couch, “That’s not good.”

“What did you give her in the first place?” Finnick asks.

“It’s one of those natural sleeping medicines, the expensive ones?” you briefly look at him, before you go back to the tv, “Costed a fortune, so it should’ve worked. The gamemakers wouldn’t send a dud, right?”

“Probably not.” 

You sit back down onto the couch, hands falling into your lap. You made sure that it was the sleeping medicine, and not the sick stuff either. The only other option that was left for Annie besides this, was the herbal tea. And that shit hardly ever works for you, or your siblings when you use it back home. The most the tea would do anyway, is make her drowsy, not even a guarantee.

It’s a good thing that you didn’t even consider the tea, because if the vial did nothing, Annie would be able to drink the entire box of tea and still not feel a single thing. The medicine was a waste of money, and who knows what it’s going to do to her. Make her even more delirious than she already is? Like she, or you guys, need that at all. You were already worried over her paranoia, now you’ve got to be worried about her accidentally killing herself?

There’s nothing you can do about it now. You’ve just got to sit back and wait to see if it kicks in, after all. There’s no point in going downstairs to tell the sponsors it was some sort of mistake, because you really didn’t know that this was going to happen. If you did, you probably wouldn’t have bothered in the first place. Everything is worth a try until it’s wasting resources. You might have been able to use the sponsor money later on.

Still, you have to sit and painfully watch as Annie progressively gets worse. Turns out, that if you don’t fall asleep with the medicine, it starts to work as a hallucinogenic. On top of Annie’s paranoia, she’s not hallucinating she’s hearing noises, and maybe even seeing things. You close your eyes and rest them against your palms when you lean forward, not really liking to hear Annie go through it.

It’s stupid. You’re not even sure how Annie’s resisting the drug, anyway. She’s not doing it on purpose, she clearly recognized the smell if she laid down immediately after. And it’s not like they had any sort of drugs available for hallucinations. No mentor would willingly give their tributes something like that, so why would it be offered?

No matter what happens, though, you’re glad to see that Annie doesn’t leave the house. She stays where she is, clutching onto her knife, staring into space. She’s just like how she was before you sent her the sponsor gift. Only this time around, she’ll randomly jump as if there’s been a loud sound, and then her eyes will follow things in front of her, even when there’s nothing there.

Elysia comes into the apartment around the same time you guys normally eat dinner, a little out of breath, “Oh, there you guys are!”

You look over your shoulder to see that she’s dressed in lime green and black. The black helps accentuate the green part, which you’re not really sure is a good thing. You’re sure that everyone can see her coming from a mile away, literally. 

“You were looking for us?” you ask, she nods, heading over to you and Finnick.

“In the betting room, I thought you’d be down there since you normally are.”

Figures that the one time you wouldn’t be down there, she’d go, “Looked like there wasn’t much going on today so I thought we could stay up here. I only went down there to send the gift.”

“I saw that.” she says, “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

You three do it over dinner. With Elysia hardly eating and doing most of the talking, Finnick watching the tv and only chiming in when he’s needed, and you trying to do all three at the same time. It’s easy for the most part. Remember when you said that you got good at multitasking? This is an example of that.

She mostly tells you what you already figured out, which is that it turns out to be a hallucinogenic after a while. It should wear off, but it’ll take hours to do. Like, for the amount of time she should have been asleep for. She’s already got a couple of hours under her belt, you’d say that by tomorrow morning, she’ll be back to normal. So, there’s no reason to sit around and wait. 

You and Finnick can get a full night of sleep for once. You just have to get up early tomorrow morning to assess the damage. You’re sure that it’ll be fairly easy to do, you’ll have to get yourself into the habit of waking up early again, anyway. You’ve got the boarding school to worry about. Anchor won’t want to do it alone forever.

Before you give it up tonight, you check the tv one last time. Annie is in her room, so she’s fine. Sanguin looks like she’s officially laying down to sleep, her weapons are displayed around her, all ready to be picked up and used at any time. As for Tekla, she’s made a bed in her little clearing in the trees. However, she’s bold, with a fire going that is distinguishable in the dark. She’s lucky that the back of the cornucopia is turned towards her, otherwise Sanguin would be more than tempted to take Tekla out.

You head back to your room after dinner, mainly to brush your teeth. You pace in your room for a moment, caught in the decision of whether or not to talk to Finnick or to leave him to be angry on his own. You’re sure that he’d appreciate being by himself, but there’s also this morning and last night to talk about. You can’t really just leave those alone, who knows what kinds of problems they’ll cause in the future.

“Okay.” you sigh, heading out of your room and to his. You knock on his door, waiting a second, “Finnick?”

It’s a couple more beats of silence, “Yeah?”

“Can I come in?”

“Sure.”

You open the door to see that Finnick is sitting on the corner of the bed. He looks up when you step inside, you shut it behind you, and lean against the door, “I’m sorry about earlier. I know we had an agreement, but the sponsors were at my disposal. I decided that I might as well, because I was sure that it would work.”

“And it should’ve.” Finnick mutters, “I would just like it if you wouldn’t go and do it again.”

“Yeah, I won’t. I don’t even have the options for it.” you laugh slightly, he cracks a smile, “You should probably know that I prioritize my mentoring job over everything else. If it’s the needs of the tributes versus you, I’m going to pick the tributes every time.”

“I know, you don’t have to be sorry for it.”

“Good, cause I wasn’t.” you grin.

Finnick rolls his eyes, “There’s something else, isn’t there?”

“You can probably guess what it is.” 

“It wouldn’t have anything to do with the horribly covered up hickeys, would it?” He’s cheeky now.

“Maybe.” you give him a soft smile, “I’d just like to know what we’re doing, and if we’re going to continue on with it.”

Finnick makes a face, “This is going to sound like shit, but I’ll go with what you want.”

“You’re right, it does sound like shit.” he laughs first, and then you join in, “The thing is, Finnick, is that I don’t have a problem with it. But the last time I checked, you were the one that told me that we weren’t good together. So are you sure that you’ll go with what I want, or are you going to break up with me in a couple of months after you realize it again?”

Finnick opens his mouth, and then closes it. “I deserve that.”

“It wasn’t an explanation, Finnick. In fact, it made things worse when we were just fine on the train, and then you come back from seeing Snow and–!” you’re shaking your head, giving yourself a moment before you start speaking again, “and suddenly I was supposed to know that we weren’t together anymore.”

“But you know why now, right?” Finnick asks.

“Parts of it.” you rub on the ring, “I know that it was because of Snow and the sex work. He made you break up with me to make you more available to the Capitol, right?”

“No, I actually made that decision myself.” he says.

You raise your eyebrows.

Finnick stares, tilts his head for a moment like he’s unsure, “There’s more to it.”

You wait, thinking that he’s just going to give up the information, but he doesn’t, “Okay…?”

“I don’t want to make you feel guilty.”

“Then why’d you say anything at all?” 

He laughs, “To not make me look like an asshole.”

You snort.

“Alright well,” Finnick pauses, “President Snow had me taken to his mansion after the train, you know this. He told me that it’s not uncommon for victors to be well received by the Capitol, but I was different because I was handsome or whatever,” his face twists, “And since I was sixteen, I was finally eligible since it’s more morally correct to sell a teen into sex slavery when they’re sixteen and not fourteen.

“Snow said that I didn’t have a choice. I had to get into it or…” Finnick shakes his head, “There wasn’t even an or at the time. He just said that it was something I had to do, and I told him no, because I was finally feeling better and I had you. Then he urged me to say yes, didn’t even tell me that there would be consequences, so I told him no again….”

He’s angry, “And he fucking killed my entire family, gave the order right in front of me. I thought he was kidding, like it was some sort of sick joke until I had to fucking listen to it.” Finnick looks at you, “He didn’t even flinch when the screaming started, or when my brother started crying. I didn’t even know what to do. And after it was over he told me that the next person he’d kill next would likely be you, or your family if he could get to them. Or worse, sell your body too.”

You can feel the blood drain from your face.

“And I didn’t want that to happen, so I said yes. And then I broke up with you because I hoped that it would make the decision a whole lot easier but I think…” he grits his teeth, “I know it would’ve been easier with you to support me.”

No words form in your mouth, you stand in silence as you try to absorb the information.

“I’m…” your eyebrows draw in, “…selfish.”

“No.” Finnick says, “You’re not. You didn’t know, how were you supposed to? I told you nothing, I wanted a clean cut but it turned out to be messy, I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing, Finnick?” you look at him, “I’ve been giving you a hard time–why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you come around later?”

“Because you moved on, like you should’ve.”

“I didn’t!” you laugh, moving forward, “Finnick, I hardly spoke to anyone after the year we broke up. My brothers fucking hated you for that entire year because of it. It took forever to convince them otherwise. The entire time, I was hoping that you were going to come around and tell me that it was some stupid prank. I would’ve forgiven you!”

He gives you a smile, “It’s better that I didn’t.”

You give him a look, and then sit on the hammock, “I guess that explains a lot.”

“You guess?” He laughs, “That’s it?”

“There’s not much to say, Finnick.” you shrug, “You said you didn’t want to make me feel guilty and I do anyway.”

“I didn’t have a choice. If you want, you could thank me for saying yes.”

You stare at him, he develops a cheeky smile, “Come on, that was mildly funny.”

“Mildly is the key word.”

The two of you sit in silence for a second, and then you dip your head, “I would be willing to give it another try, if you are.”

“Yeah.”

He’s got a grin on his face, like you just told him he’s getting a car for christmas.

“My brother’s will have to warm up to you again.” you warn him.

“Okay! They liked me before, right? What’s one more time?”

“They hardly give out second chances so you’ll have to consider yourself lucky.”

Finnick softly smiles, “I already am.”

–

A sharp pain in your chest wakes you in the morning. Your eyes shoot open, sitting upright in bed. It spreads immediately, like your heart is pumping it out; the source of the problem. You try and take a deep breath, hoping that you’ll get your mind off of it, but it makes the pain worse. Mid-breath, you stop, and exhale too deeply, causing another shock to go through you.

A groan leaves your lips, tears appearing in your eyes. You carefully get out of bed, wanting to be on your feet, hoping that laying down was the problem. You make no sudden moves, allowing the blood to make its way to your feet as you pace the room. With your palm, you rub small circles around your chest, which seems to relieve some of the pressure.

The clock on the stand reads eight in the morning, four hours before you actually have to get up and get ready for the day. You have a feeling that if you go and lie back down now, right when the pain is beginning to subside, you’re only going to make it worse. Plus, you don’t think that you’ll be able to fall back asleep, not with the adrenaline running through your body.

You take deep breaths when it doesn’t hurt, starting to feel dizzy from the self-hyperventilation. In no time, the pain is almost completely gone, only lingering in aches every now and then. You stand around for a few minutes longer, watching the sun rise high enough to finally come through the window before deciding that you might as well get ready.

The Tribute Center seems to have found its happy medium between too hot and too cold, as last night it was like existing in a frozen tundra. You’re lucky that the blanket they provide retains heat, otherwise you would’ve been bundled up a lot more than you were. Because of this, you think that you can settle for a lukewarm shower.

You lock your bedroom door before disappearing into the bathroom. The shower runs in the background as you undress, throwing all the dirty clothes by the door. You look over the tattoo on your collarbone, which is practically done healing by now. With the cream that the tattoo artist gave you, it doesn’t take weeks to heal like it does in the districts. As for the one on the back of your neck, it looks like it was done yesterday, when really it was years ago.

When you step inside the shower, you allow the water to run through your hair. You might as well wash it today. The shampoo you use smells like straight sugar, same goes for the conditioner. The bottle says it’s good for your hair, but the list of chemicals on the back is seriously concerning. The bathroom provides a matching body wash that smells exactly like the shampoo. You know for a fact that you saw a body lotion in one of the drawers, a part of you wonders if that’ll be overkill.

You turn the shower off and let the machines dry your body and hair. You decide to use the body lotion anyway, and by the time you realize that it’s glittery, it’s too late. You stare at your hands for a couple of minutes in shame, watching the white shimmer in the light. However, when it’s completely spread over your body and dried, it doesn’t transfer onto your surroundings, so that’s a good sign.

You brush your teeth while manually putting your hair together. You go for half-up, half-down since it’ll keep most of the hair out of your face. In the end, you still pull out a few strands to make sure that your face isn’t bland. Before you can do anything else, you have to get dressed.

The dresser holds plenty of skirts to work with, which you’re not opposed to. You sift through them, figuring that white will be fine. When you hold it up to your hip, you see that the skirt ends above the knee, so Finnick won’t have a reason to freak out. As for the shirt, you settle for a light pink, scoop neck bodysuit, with white underwear. When you finally get the entire outfit put together, you look at yourself in the mirror.

You’re very pretty today. The skirt doesn’t ride up too bad, even when you move quickly. The bodysuit prevents anything serious from showing, just in case the skirt does find a way to get stuck, or you spin too fast. You apply mascara, pull on white slip-on tennis shoes and the ring. Needless to say, you’re looking extremely girly today.

The clock says it’s reaching nine, you’d say that breakfast will take thirty, and then you can meet Finnick in the betting room at ten. So, you go out to the dining room to see that Elysia is nowhere to be seen. You refuse to believe that she left before you got up, she has to be sleeping in. Normal Capitol people stay up late and rise at noon. But then again, Elysia is an escort and she’s far from normal sometimes.

An avox turns on the tv, so you sit down at the table and wait as they serve brunch in front of you. It’s hashbrowns, steak, and a bowl of assorted fruit. You pick through your food, not super hungry and in the mood for all of it. Nevertheless, you’re sure to thank the avox that serves it to you, and continues to come back around to give you orange juice and coffee.

The arena screen is split into three, which isn’t new. It was like this last night, since there aren’t many tributes to focus on at the moment. If there’s only three, you might as well show all of them and what they’re doing. At least one of them has to be doing something mildly interesting.

Tekla is still in her small clearing in the trees, which is fairly close to the dam, now that the gamemakers have marked it on the map. It’s a beautiful place to rest, you’d even picnic there if you had the opportunity. It’s not a good spot, though. It’s too close to the dam, too easy to kill her if and when it breaks. Still, she lays on her back, eyes closed. You can’t tell if she’s awake or not, but you’re going to guess that she is, judging by how her hands are intertwined over her stomach.

If she were sleeping, she’d probably be more annoyed by the sun. Instead, she’s directly under it, which might actually end up giving her a sunburn if she isn’t careful. That’ll be miserable to work with inside of the arena. You can’t even do anything to remedy the burn this far in, except for natural leaves and plants. You can’t think of any off the top of your head that you’ve seen so far.

Sanguin is in the cornucopia, she’s awake and stretching. She doesn’t look tired, despite the fact that it’s obvious that she just got up. Judging by her ratty blonde hair and the way her face twists each time she leans over. She stands up straight, and then grins slightly, turning around and going back inside. She combs through her hair with her fingers and sits on the edge of a box, sword right next to her. Maybe she’s planning on going out hunting today? You hope she doesn’t actually think she’ll get anything out of the village.

Especially with how awful Annie is looking. She’s got her arms wrapped around her body, knees pulled to her chest. The good news is that she looks to be asleep, mouth slightly open, leaned up against the connecting wall in the corner. But she’s got deep purple bags beneath her eyes, she’s only recently fallen asleep. You wonder how long it’ll last before she’s jolting awake.

It’s good that she’s sleeping, with no thanks to the medicine that you sent her. It probably drove her insane into early this morning, like you said would happen last night. You’d say that it’s a good thing, but with the way that Sanguin keeps looking to the village, it’s not. Annie needs to get up and be ready for a fight. Unfortunately, there’s no way you can warn her of this. You’re all out of options.

You finish your food, thank the avoxes, and leave for the betting room. There’s not a lot going on right now, it’s early morning. Everything big that happens in the arena is normally dedicated towards the afternoon to the evening, for the gamemakers at least. As for the tributes, they’re welcome to make and wreak havoc as they please, when they see fit. 

The betting room is quiet and empty when you get down there. Finnick and Gloss are sitting by each other on the couch. You hold the doorknob on the door, carefully setting it against the doorframe so that they won’t hear you. If they thought that you scaring them was bad when they were semi-expecting you, it’s going to be worse when you’re supposed to be sleeping.

You stand behind them for a moment, squinting down at them, wondering if they have the same sixth sense that you do when people are standing over you. Your question is answered when Finnick barely glances over his shoulder, and then jumps three feet in the air when he realizes that they’re not alone. Gloss has the same moment, inhaling sharply.

A laugh erupts from you as you go around the couch to sit on the arm next to Finnick, “You two are too easy.”

“You’re like a fucking ghost, I didn’t even hear you come in.” Gloss says.

“That was on purpose.” you cross a leg beneath your thigh, “Woke up early by accident, thought that it wouldn’t hurt to come down and keep you two company for a little while.”

“Well, the afternoon schedule was nice while it lasted.” Finnick mutters.

Your face twists, you look down at him, “You’re a bad liar. There’s no way you like waking up at midnight and going to bed at noon.”

Finnick tilts his head for a moment, making a face, “I mean…”

You slap the side of his head before he can say anything else, “You don’t have to prove you’re a teenage boy.”

The Morning Line Odds say that everyone is still at where they were yesterday, so there’s no need to take in new information. You’re really just left to sit and wait for anything important to happen inside of the arena. In the meantime, you talk to Finnick and Gloss about the unusual silence. With your guys’ luck, it’s not going to last very long. There’s no way that the gamemakers will allow two normal days in a row.

However, today’s the ninth day of the games. You’re sure they’re going to want to keep it going on for a little while longer, so maybe they will allow fate to be in the tribute’s hands. In that case, you all might as well buckle up for a long day, because it’s going to take hours for Sanguin to make it to Annie, with the pace she’s going right now.

It’s almost ten in the morning when people begin showing up inside of the betting room. All brightly dressed, and particularly chatty this morning. This is when you decide to officially sit between Finnick and Gloss, not wanting the sponsors to see that you’re in a skirt today. Finnick seems happy, which is all that matters.

Unfortunately, Annie wakes up. She jolts, eyes flying open as she reaches for her knife. She gets to her feet without a word, carefully making her way across the bedroom to the window, where she rubs it down to look outside of it. Her eyebrows are drawn together, staring straight at the dam. 

She seems satisfied for a second, gently nodding to herself. She goes to move away, until Sanguin comes into clear view. For half a second, you think to yourself that it’s a good thing that Annie is paranoid, because she just spotted the threat she’s been waiting for. After that, Annie scoops up all of her belongings, not leaving a single trace that she was there, besides the now-clean window.

She carefully goes down the steps, making it to the base floor without falling through the floorboards. Outside, she takes a deep breath, shuts the door and tries to jam some rocks beneath the door to make it harder to open. She tiptoes in grass to make sure that there’s no footprints, makes it a few houses over before she even considers walking through the dirt again.

None of it matters in the end.

A thunderous crack echoes throughout the arena so loudly that it breaks the microphones and makes several people scream out in surprise. You all watch in deafening silence as the dam continues to crack, and water begins to spurt out in large streams.

Your heart pounds in your chest. Today is the day.

You stand from the couch, moving a few feet forward to see better. Finnick and Gloss join you, not a single word passes between you three as you watch in awe. If such small cracks are already sprouting in streams big enough to create rivers, then how will the rest of the water fare? You have no choice but to wait and watch.

The screen is now in four, with one long screen on top completely dedicated to the dam, and three bottom squares for the tributes.

Tekla is on her feet, already rushing down the hill. She’s got no weapons on her hand, no backpack to weigh her down. She’s left it all behind in her peaceful circle in the woods. She whips through bushes, swings around trees, barely makes it over root and rocks on her way down. She’s freaked, struggling to keep her hair out of her face, constantly tucking it behind her ears.

Her feet look like they have a mind of their own, though. With the way that she goes down, it’s almost like she’s dancing, how flowery it is. However, her panic isn’t easily masked. She’s obviously shaking, and sometimes she’ll fuck up and have to catch herself before it’s too late.

Sanguin is standing on top of the hill, everything still on her as she stares at the water making its way towards her. Her eyebrows are pushed together, trying to assess the situation and if it’s worth worrying over. The answer is yes, because it’s only a matter of time before the rest of the concrete blows, and she’s left with a real problem. She slowly turns her back to it, picking up her pace, jogging through the grass. She’s still carrying all of herself.

And finally, Annie is also running through the buildings, just as panicked as Tekla is. The only thing that Annie has is her knife, clutched with white knuckles. She’s as white as a sheet too, breathing heavily through her mouth. You can empathize with her, even if she’s a while away, she knows that she can still be reached.

Another large crack sounds, Tekla slaps her hands over her ears and risks a glance behind her. There’s a jagged horizontal crack that runs from the right side to the left. It’s a matter of time before it goes. The concrete is spider-webbing, developing into a worse problem. Tekla tries to quicken her pace, but there’s only so fast you can go downhill before you risk hurting yourself.

Sanguin has dropped her things, running as fast as she did to catch up with Bauhinia. Her feet slam into the ground, and launch her forward another couple of feet before she’s connecting with the dirt again. She makes it across the second lower clearing, going uphill again. Those hills are going to be an absolute killer when it comes to the water.

The gamemakers are evil. It’s been exactly nine days, ten minutes and forty seconds since the tributes got inside of the arena. You said a week and a half? It hasn’t even been that. They’re in a hurry to get the big event over before one tribute can kill another. Why? Because it’s more fun cheering on the running tributes than watching them kill each other. It’s like betting on a running horse, who’s going to make it to the finish line first?

Annie stops, taking in deep breaths as she watches the dam through a row of trees. She’s able to watch as the final crack breaks the dam open like an egg. Concrete and debris go flying into the trees as the water creates a nasty flattening path through the woods. Almost every tree that the front water initially hits, is uprooted and brought with.

Tekla’s scream is piercing, lasting a couple of seconds before she’s completely cut off. She doesn’t die immediately, you’re able to watch as the water brings her along. She’s suspended in the middle, legs kicking, hands wrapped around her throat. She has half the mind to hold her breath, so that’s good news. The bad is that she’s a quarter mile underwater. There’s no way she’ll make it to the surface in time, if she did know how to swim.

You think you’ll have to watch her drown when she runs out of air, but an entire tree branch goes straight through her back and out the middle of her chest. Bubbles erupt around her face, hands grabbing the wood just before the cannon sounds. One down, three to go.

Sanguin has one more hill to make it up before she’s in the village. Her arms are pumping, face a bright red, her glances over her shoulder are quick and spared. She doesn’t do it often because it slows her down, it’s a brief check to see how far ahead she is in front of the water. And the truth is that it’s catching up on her. Just like you said, the hills are a nightmare.

Not only because she has to run up them, which tires her out more. But because the water gains momentum and unpredictability with every hill it surges over. The water doesn’t seem to endlessly pour out of the dam, though. It seems like the gamemakers had a prepared forcefield. They just wanted to let out a controlled amount of water. Big enough to kill a couple of tributes before it thinned out and became a minimal threat.

Sanguin starts uphill the same moment the water hits the hill just behind her. Down it goes for a couple of seconds, before it’s surging above her in a giant wave. Sanguin makes it into the village, running beneath the roofs as if it’ll protect her from the water. She runs straight for a while, before starting to zig zag towards the corner. 

She must realize that it’s not worth it, and that the diagonal running only slows her down, because she goes back to running straight, heading closer and closer to where Annie had been staying. 

Speaking of which, Annie’s on the run again. You can tell that she’s keeping track of the height of the water. Even though the houses are decades old, they seem to be slowing down the water, since they’re all individually filling up inside. Sanguin doesn’t seem too focused on the fact, mostly wanting distance. She’s almost on the brink of losing it, though. Her steps are getting sloppier the more she goes.

Annie goes around a corner and into an alleyway, effectively blocking the water from her sight. It’s stupid, she’s not going to be able to keep track of it the same way she has. Sanguin has a point when it comes to running straight away from the water.

And then she starts climbing the walls. With how narrow the walkway is, she can scoot her way up little by little. It burns a lot of her time, and cranks up your anxiety, watching her do this. You know that she’s trying to get herself above the tide now. The houses where she’s at, are at least two stories tall each, not counting the roof.

Annie grabs the gutters, using her arms to pull her onto the red-orange shingles. You get a glimpse from where she’s at now to see that the water is lower, but she’ll still have to swim, even if she gets onto the high point of the roof. She takes one last look at her knife before she frisbee’s it to her right, making sure that it’s far away from her when the water does come.

Sanguin is losing ground. Soon, she’ll be stuck swimming too. It seems like that their times are lining up. Annie bends her knees, cracks her fingers, prepares her arms. Sanguin’s glances get more and more frequent, anticipating the moment the water hits her.

Annie dives straight in, letting the water welcome her. She doesn’t waste time, swimming straight to the top. Her face is serious, she has her eyes locked on the surface, kicking her legs hard, arm over head. While Sanguin holds her breath, fingers squeezing her nose shut, eyes following the structures in front of her. She narrowly misses the wall of the first house, before slamming right into the neck.

Just like with Tekla, there’s a large burst of bubbles. Sanguin struggles now, trying to swim to the top. She makes a few inches at a time, but it’s hardly noticeable, or comparable with how well Annie is doing. In fact, she’s reached the surface already, inhaling loudly.

The water directs Sanguin into a wall again, this time her head cracks against the wall. The water turns a light shade around her head, and it’s minutes before the cannon finally sounds. Which signals the water to drain, lowering Annie onto a roof nearby.

Her dark hair is stuck to her face and neck, clothes completely drenched. Her mouth is slightly parted, breathing loudly.

You grab onto Finnick’s arm, “Oh my god.”

“Congratulations, guys.” Gloss has got a grin on his face, he slaps you on the back.

“She did it.” you say, “Annie’s done it!”

Claudius Templesmith’s, the announcer, voice comes over the arena, “Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victor of the Seventieth Hunger Games, from District Four, Annie Cresta!”

Annie’s face drains of color again, before it’s bursting in red, “I win.” she murmurs at first, barely audible, before tears of relief are filling her eyes. Much louder, this time she screams; “I win!”


	10. Chapter 10

This morning, you’re floating around the room. There’s an impossible grin on your face as you move to get ready today, not even mad over the fact that you didn’t get much sleep last night. It’s the anticipation of seeing your tribute again–now a victor! You’ve always pictured the moment where you finally get to see your tribute again after their big win, and it’s finally happened.

Five years of trial and error, and you’ve finally found a solution. It doesn’t matter that it’s been standing in front of you the entire time, all that matters is that you made it. You figured out what you need to do in your future years. In no time, you’ll be just as infamous as Districts One and Two. No more caskets, you’ll finally be able to start sleeping easy.

What you wear today doesn’t have to be anything specially fancy. You settle for a pair of black jeans and dark grey shirt. You kick the black tennis shoes out of the closet and into the middle of your room. You drop the clothes onto the bed, but bring the black underwear into the bathroom with you.

You turn on the shower, and strip yourself naked. The last time anyone has seen Annie was a week and a half ago, inside of the arena. Since then, you only get updates on her. Mostly the injuries she sustained, and fixing the blemishes that might have appeared on her skin since being inside of the arena. You went ahead and approved the full-body polish, mostly because you’re not sure if she can handle seeing the scars as reminders.

It’s less of the fact that she might find them ugly and will want them covered up later, and more of the fact that she literally will not be able to handle seeing them. Along with all the other testing and evaluating that they’ve been doing over the last week and a half, they’ve also been frequently checking her mental health. She’s pretty drugged each time they ‘wake her up’ from her medically-induced coma, but from what they can tell, it’s not good.

Annie’s time in the arena has left her damaged. Which is okay, because that has happened to all the victors that you’ve met so far. This will be the first time you’ve seen it more severely, and you’ll just have to take a different approach with it. You’ve already decided that she won’t be replacing you in the mentor program, or helping you, Anchor, and Finnick in the boarding school. At least, not until you’re sure that she can handle it.

For now, she’s a delicate flower, and needs to be handled as such. 

You shower, scrubbing yourself clean. The sugary smell of the body wash fills the air, and you find yourself taking in deep breaths through your nose to savor the sweetness. Even if it’s unintentional, the Capitol is exceptional at selling products to you. How can you resist the body scrub that makes you smell like ice cream? You can’t.

You have time before you need to be out in the dining room to meet Finnick to go down to Annie. So, you sit on the floor of the shower, hair out of reach of the water to make sure that you won’t have to dry it, and let the warm water soothe you. Every now and then, you’ll turn it hotter, or colder, bouncing back and forth until your stomach is growling and you can’t put it off any longer.

You dry yourself with a soft towel, eyes on yourself in the mirror. You can’t really help it when you turn to see the scar on your back. A part of you is sad that you couldn’t even keep one thing for Annie. A scar, a cracked tooth, some abnormality. Something on her body that would tell everyone, when shown, that she won the Hunger Games and kept an injury as a souvenir. Even after everything that she’s gone through. 

It would be a sign of strength, you think.

You pull on the black underwear, and leave the bathroom to get dressed in your room, since that’s where you left your clothes. The moment you step into the doorway, you can see Finnick sitting on the chair in the corner. He stares blankly at you for a moment, before he slowly turns a red color.

“I should’ve knocked.” He covers his eyes with one hand, but does the little peek thing through his fingers as a joke.

Of course, the one time you don’t lock your bedroom door before you go to take a shower, someone comes in. And of course, the first person that does it by accident is Finnick.

You give him a face before pulling on your jeans, “You need something?”

“Just came in to check on you, you’ve been showering for a while now.” he says, there’s a smile hinting at the corner of his lips. 

“And you didn’t knock?” you pull on your shirt next, and reach for a pair of socks, when you realize that you didn’t set any out by accident. This starts your next hunt.

“I did, actually, a couple of times. Elysia got tired of the sound so she told me to sit and wait or give up altogether.” Finnick shrugs, “We’re both adults here, so I thought that you wouldn’t be too bothered if I sat in here.”

“Seems like an innocent enough excuse.” you grin, he laughs a little bit to himself, “What are you planning?”

“Obviously I was hoping that you’d walk out naked.” 

You roll your eyes, “You’re a little late for that.”

You open the top drawer of the dresser to find that there’s only one pair of socks, which means that you’re going to have to wear this pair tomorrow. You’ll only be in the Capitol today and tomorrow, after that you’re going to be going home. Unfortunately, none of you are going to have a minute to think to yourselves as soon as Annie’s awake. 

You pull on the socks, and then the shoes. Together, you and Finnick meet Elysia in the dining room. She’s wearing a particular green color that you vaguely remember her wearing after you won your games. It’s a different shade, a pea green color. It’s not an awful color on her, but it’s the color itself that looks gross. It seems that all of the times you’ve had to change Alyssum’s diaper has finally gotten to you.

“You look like you’re wearing baby shit.” you say, going down the steps.

Elysia’s neck practically breaks from how hard she turns to look at you, “What?”

“The color, it’s putrid.” you sit in a chair. Finnick sits next to you, laughing.

She looks down at what she’s wearing, a frown appearing on her face, and then she looks back at you, “You’re not kidding.”

“It’s an ugly color.” Finnick agrees, “It’s a good thing that you’re changing later.”

“The both of you are insufferable.” She sighs, but going back to drinking her coffee, “I suppose I should thank you for being honest.”

“You’re welcome.” You say, piling the food onto your plate.

“Just keeping you on your toes.”

It’s pancakes, and spread all over the table, is a variety of toppers. Different types of syrups, like caramel, fudge and maple are offered. Next is the sweets, like chocolate chips and toffee. Or there’s the fruits, bananas, strawberries, blueberries, everything you could possibly imagine. Which is quite a difference from the day you were only allowed to have fruits.

You grab what seems good, keeping in mind that you’ll be able to try as many combinations as you want to. You start with the fruits, and then the sweets, and end with the syrups, since they’re pretty irreversible. You could always ask for a new plate, or you can just be smart and wait until the end to try syrups.

Anyway, Finnick seems to have the same thought process that you do. Maybe he’s finally realized that this will be the last breakfast you eat. As tomorrow you’ll probably be eating brunch, or lunch altogether from how late you’ll be getting up. The final interview will be conducted at two tomorrow, you’ve already been given the schedule. And since the Victory Banquet that will take place tonight, lasts until early morning, you’ll all be sleeping in past breakfast.

The avoxes take their time clearing the table, since you three are in no hurry to leave. There’s still half an hour to burn before you should even think to start making your way downstairs. There’s no set time that Annie will be awake, but they’ll let her out of the room at a certain time. When they’re sure that the drugs have worn off and that she won’t hurt herself, or others.

And since her current mental state is a little questionable, she’s been met with quite a few exceptions from the gamemakers and President Snow, himself. You remember having to put on your arena outfit after you woke up in the medical room. It wasn’t a pleasant sight after everything that you’d been through. The navy blue color has almost permanently been ruined for you because of it. 

If it was hard for you, there’s no telling what Annie might think of it. So, she’ll be wearing sweatpants and a shirt. The accommodations don’t really stop there, they’ll continue on from today, to tonight, to tomorrow afternoon, District Four, all the way until after her Victory Tour. Annie is in no state to be constantly hounded by cameras as soon as she gets home. Same thing goes for coming face to face with the families of the dead tributes.

Annie’s lucky that she was born and fought for the district she’s in currently, otherwise there’s no telling what other mentors would have made her do. Look strong-minded, as if the games didn’t affect her at all. Pretend as though killing two tributes isn’t detrimental all by itself. Act like Marsh never meant a thing to her, like he was just garbage to be thrown away.

No, you and Finnick know the value of human life. You know that volunteering takes a willpower that you will never have. On one hand, you’re lucky that Alyssum isn’t in your age group, because you would have hated to volunteer over her. To willingly put yourself into a situation that would supposedly look like a ‘noble act’. But on the other hand, if she’s chosen for the games–since her eligibility doesn’t just magically go away because you’ve won–you won’t be able to volunteer for her, only mentor.

It’s mostly the reason why you’re so hellbent on sending her to the boarding school. You, Reed and Mox can’t protect her. She’s too young. Reed is seventeen years older than her, Mox is sixteen, and you are twelve. If she gets chosen, none of you can go in there and protect her. Even family friends are too old to do that, and you would never ask them to do it in the first place.

To volunteer to go into the games is to willingly accept that you might die when you go inside. It means to stand in line to get on Charon’s boat to cross the river Styx. It’s like standing outside of the gates of hell, knowing what is happening on the other side of the fence, and choosing to go inside anyway. In a way, it also means that you are not completely whole, and you are trying to find the missing piece. 

The Hunger Games is not that missing piece.

The Hunger Games takes all the pieces you have and scatters them. You have to find each and every one of them individually, and hope that you haven’t gone out of order. Otherwise, you’re stuck in some purgatory of not knowing what you’re missing and thinking that missing piece is the solution.

You know because you’re speaking from experience. 

The moment you rsoe from that platform inside of the arena, you lost everything you had before. You had to build it from the ground up, hoping that the foundation that your brothers had helped with, was sturdy enough to build the rest of the house. You got lucky in there. What they don’t tell you, is that you lose all the pieces when you come back, too.

You’ll never be able to officially understand what Annie will feel and go through, but you’ll be able to offer her advice. Tell her that she’s not alone, and every single victor had to go through the same process that she’s going through now. Readjusting back to reality after living inside a death trap designed to kill you, is hell. It’s always like walking through hell.

“I think I’m going to change.” Elysia says, getting up from the table and leaving towards the hallway, which might actually lead her to a room with extra clothes for the escorts. You don’t know, you never go farther than the balcony because there’s never a need to.

“Are you okay?” Finnick asks, his hand is gentle on your shoulder, “You’ve got a look on your face.”

“Just remembering how I felt post-games.” you look at him.

“Hopeless?” His voice is careful.

“Hopeless.” you agree, giving him a smile, “It’s okay, the pieces are coming back together. One at a time. I’m sure by the time I’m Haymitch’s age, I should have my head on straight without the help of alcohol poisoning.” 

Finnick lets out a laugh, and then draws you in close enough to press a kiss to your lips. There’s a small explosion of heat across your face, since the giddy feeling from when you were a teenager seems to have come back. Along with all the previous feelings you had for Finnick. 

You never stopped loving him, you were just waiting until it was the right time.

He presses a kiss to your forehead after, “Is your room back home soundproof?”

You pull away from him, face twisting, “You know how to ruin a moment, huh?”

“It was a genuine question!” He asks, but there’s laughter in his voice.

“If that’s really a concern, we can just use your house.”

He makes a face, “Your bed is always softer.”

“That’s because I know how to get a proper mattress.” a smile appears on your face as you get to your feet. You can hear Elysia coming down the hall, heels clicking on the wooden floorboards.

She’s dressed in a darker green, which still goes with her makeup, so there wasn’t a need for change. She obviously did this on purpose, just so that she wouldn’t have to take off what she’s wearing, put on a fresh layer, only to take it off a couple hours later. It would be a waste, mostly because all of the products in the Capitol are crazy expensive.

“We can go now.” she says.

Together, the three of you take the first elevator down to the Training Center, and then a second one further underground. Where the walls, floors and ceiling is all cement, and the doors are hidden unless digitally told to move. You remember sitting inside of your medical room, waiting for the doors to open for you. A random panel on the wall had moved. You knew the door blended in, but the architect was a genius for how well they’d done it.

You’re not allowed to go beyond a certain point. Annie hearing your voices directly outside of her room can make her feel like she’s going insane–it’s a rule for all victors, not an accommodation for her–and might even make her destructive. The peacekeepers stand in place for a while, motionless and waiting for orders. When the orders are given to them, they leave you three to yourselves in the hallway.

“Three more days until we go home.” you massage the back of your neck, “Finally, I’m tired of this.”

“So it takes nearly three full weeks for you to grow homesick?” Finnick asks.

“More of the fact that I just want to start the next round of trainees.” you run a hand through your hair, now, “Now that I’ve caught the mistake, I just want to fix it before it’s too late.”

“Do you have a set schedule for training?” Elysia asks, you can see Laurel coming your way.

When she stops next to Elysia, she doesn’t really say anything, just listens to what you three are talking about. If you didn’t know her as well as you did, you’re sure that you would be afraid to speak about this in front of her. However, she’s like one of your best friends, you trust her with your life.

“Mostly during the school year, we take a break when the games come around, and pick it up a week or two after. But this year I’m probably going to make them come in as soon as possible.”

Elysia opens her mouth, pauses, and then asks; “You take their entire break from them?”

“No,” Finnick says, you smile along, “No, when we designed this, we knew that we wouldn’t be able to run it all day long.”

“But you call it a boarding school.” she says slowly.

“To make sure that we don’t get in trouble with the law.” you raise your eyebrows slightly, feeling smug, “Preparing tributes for the Hunger Games is highly illegal, but if you can find ways around it…”

“Also, the school runs from late afternoon into evening. The teens have the entire morning to themselves.” Finnick says, “Because there’s nothing more teenagers hate than having to get up in the morning for school.”

You nod, “It runs for four to five hours, sometimes over if it’s a special day. We always warn the parents and teens in advance. We also keep track of who comes in, who drops out and for what reason. And also grades, for the younger kids because their education is important and all of that.”

Finnick’s trying to suppress a smile, “We run a very ethical business.”

You laugh, elbowing him.

You can hear the scuffle of feet behind you, which makes you and Finnick turn to see who’s coming. You know already, there’s no one else in this part of the building that has woken from their slumber. 

Annie stands at the end of the hallway, looking only slightly disoriented. Her hair looks like she used her fingers to comb through it. As you said earlier, she’s wearing the grey sweatpants, with a matching grey shirt. At first, she just stands and stares at you guys, almost like she’s unsure if you guys are real.

And then a smile spreads across her face, breaking into a run with her arms open wide. You open your arms too, not being able to help the grin on your face. She slams into your body, arms tight around your waist. You squeeze her, rubbing her back with a laugh.

“Welcome back, Annie.”

She moves onto Finnick next, then Elysia, and finally, Laurel. When all of you can see her face, it’s slightly blotchy from crying. She wipes her eyes and gives you guys a wobbly smile, wrapping her arms around herself.

“How are you feeling?” you ask.

She shrugs slightly, “Tired, when are we going home?”

“Two days, we’ll be on the train by tomorrow afternoon.”

Annie smiles, Laurel touches her shoulder carefully, “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah.” 

And then her eyes land on you, Finnick and Elysia, “Don’t wait too long to get ready, you only have a few hours.”

“We got it.” Finnick gives her and Annie a wave.

Laurel brings Annie’s arm into hers, talking to her on the way to the elevator. They take a turn around a corner, and then they’re out of sight. For a moment, all three of you stand in silence, trying to gather what you can from that brief interaction with Annie.

“I think that we shouldn’t be as careful as we’re being.” you say slowly, trying to make sure that you won’t be wording this wrong, “She isn’t a child, she’s eighteen.”

Finnick’s nodding along, “You can be fragile and still not break under pressure.”

“Bingo.” 

–

You decided that it wouldn’t hurt to get ready for the recap in the same room. You had Finnick bring his suit, and whatever he would need for his hair into your room, since you have too much to transfer. You stand in front of the mirror, half-naked and curling your hair. Finnick sits on a kitchen stool, wearing his black slacks and a white undershirt. He’s caught in a game of buttoning and unbuttoning his cuffs.

“We should get her a counselor.” he mutters absently.

“She can use mine.” you let the curl fall, and then twirl the strand of hair around your finger for a couple of seconds, “She’s still active, I see her every now and then when I’m having a particularly hard time.”

Finnick’s eyes find yours in the mirror, “How often?”

You shrug, “It’s gotten less over the years, but sometimes little things will set me off.” you give him a half-smile, “I don’t cook by myself anymore because the knives in our kitchen are small and triggering. But if it’s teaching the boarding school, I can use knives, swords, whatever all day long without a problem.”

You know what the problem is. When you cook, you like to do it alone because you don’t have people around you to distract you. You’re not as prone to making accidents. However, it also means that you’re allowed to think to yourself, and dig up everything that you’ve worked hard to bury. Like what it feels like to have your hands coated in blood, and the panicked feeling when Allio had woken up right as you’d begun to retreat.

If you’re surrounded by the teens, it means you’re using the knife with a purpose. You’re teaching them how to defend themselves, you don’t have to think about all the bad things you’ve done with a weapon, and all the feelings that came after. You also don’t do it often, too. You know to take breaks between you teaching and Anchor, because progress can unwind very, very quickly and easily. Years of work can be gone in a simple hour.

“Huh.” Finnick lets out, “Anything else?”

You think for a moment, and then laugh, “I don’t like the taste of fish. I can’t stand the smell of it cooking, either.”

Finnick laughs too.

“Alyssum asked me for a rabbit last year, like a pet.” You shake your head, “I told her no but I couldn’t explain why, exactly. How do you tell your little sister that you know what they taste like? Much less that you ate them for weeks on end?”

“That would be a good way to traumatize her.”

“Just a couple more years, and then I’ll let her in on the secret.” you wink.

You do your makeup next, going easy on the gold eyeshadow. Earlier, Laurel had hand-delivered a puffy gold dress, as well as Finnick’s black and white suit. He doesn’t get to have all the fun colors like he used to, unless he’s dressing himself. Laurel and Pleurisy wouldn’t allow that this time around, and you’re not really upset about it. She knows better than you do when it comes to what the Capitol will want to see.

“Are you nervous?”

You raise your eyebrows, “For what?”

“To be on stage, it’ll be the first time since we were kids.” 

You pause, looking at him, “Are you nervous?”

“A little.” he admits, shrugging, “I mean, people will know that I’m a phony and did nothing.”

“Except you did do something, you mentored. Just because you didn’t help in the boarding school, doesn’t mean anything just yet.” you back up for a minute, “I wish Leo was here to do my makeup, he can do it more evenly than I can.”

“I think it looks good.” Finnick says, “The real problem is the eyeliner, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but I’ve been practicing.”

It’s quiet for a second, “You didn’t answer my question.”

A low hum sounds from you as you try and finish up what you’re doing, “I don’t think so.” you move onto your other eye, “It’s not about me, it’s about Annie and her victory. It’s harder to be afraid to look good and stuff like that. I’m not the main focus, we won years ago.”

“Except they’re going to know we’re a couple…” Finnick trails off, “Maybe that isn’t a bad thing.”

You smile, “See? You’re worrying over nothing.”

You finish up what you’re doing, which takes an additional ten minutes. After, you pull on the dress, have Finnick zip up the back, and then sit on the chair in front of the mirror. You lightly curl some of his hair to accentuate the look, it’s also somewhat of a throwback to how he’d look on stage the last time you two were together.

“You look very handsome.” you say, rufflign up his hair to make it look less clean.

“I look handsome? I think you look handsome.” Finnick says.

You fake a gasp, placing your hand on your chest, grinning, “Oh my gosh, thank you.”

He rolls his eyes, laughing. The only thing you have to do is put on jewelry and put on your shoes before it’s too late. You go ahead and do the black heels first, Finnick volunteers to do the ribbons on the bottom because he knows how to tie a tie. When he gets to his feet, you cup his face and kiss him.

All the jewelry is black, except for your ring. You pull on the bracelets, and while you’re positioning them, you spy a wiggly gold one. So, you place it in the middle to make a small pattern, before moving onto your ears. The earrings are dangly black lines, it doesn’t draw much attention, and it’s mostly hidden by your hair, unless you move it behind your shoulder or tuck strands behind your ears.

Just before you think you’re ready enough to go, you go back and apply black lipstick, afraid that Laurel will pick that out when she finally sees you in less than an hour. You make sure that the black isn’t on your teeth, and won’t be transferring onto Finnick if you end up kissing him more. Then, you head out of your room and into the dining room to see that Elysia is just about to leave the apartment too.

She’s dressed in silver, but she isn’t shiny like you are, “I think Annie’s wearing red.” 

“She is.” Finnick says, “It’s a maroon color, goes down to her calves.”

When you first saw the dress when Laurel showed you, it seemed a little dangerous, especially the color. But getting to see it in person a couple days ago, you finally agreed that Annie would like it. Annie’s not really going to get to see herself in the mirror, because they want to make sure she won’t have a panic attack just before the recap and crowning. Everyone was promised to make her glance in the mirror as brief as possible.

Elysia brings you and Finnick to where you’ll be standing when you’re raised. Unlike the first time, this time you and Finnick aren’t separated by a wall. You stand on yours briefly, and Finnick mimics you. A sense of nostalgia goes through you, staring at the wall in front of you like this, hands in your lap. Back then, you were moments from seeing Finnick for the first time since the arena. The first time he’d be able to see you awake, alert, alive.

You’re sure that you hate the feeling of all of this, rushing back into your head fast enough to give you a pounding headache. But you don’t move from the platform, you smile down at it slightly. It’s an old friend, the start of your journey home.

“Finnick?” you ask, looking at him.

His eyes meet yours, the darkness in here makes it nearly impossible to see the smile that appears on his face, “(Y/n)?”

“Thank you.”

His face twists slightly, “For what?”

“For saving me.”

He opens his mouth to ask what you mean, but Elysia appears telling you that Annie has made it down. The prep team and Laurel are going to go get ready, so you have a couple of minutes before you really need to start worrying about being where you should be. She disappears again.

“I’m going to go check on Annie real quick, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” you get off the platform.

Annie is standing by herself in the dark, playing with the smooth ruffles on her dress. She runs her fingers along the cloth, an easy soothing method. When she hears your heels, she looks over, and then smiles.

“Hey,” you stop in front of her, “You look great!”

Her chin lowers slightly, “Thank you, you do too.”

“The recap is going to be extremely easy. All you have to do is smile and wave.” you fix some hair, pulling it over her shoulder, “You don’t have to watch if you don’t want to.”

She nods, rubbing her hands down her dress until they disappear, pockets. You totally forgot that Laurel had incorporated pockets into her dress. You don’t even remember why she had done it in the first place, maybe because of the Victory Banquet? You suppose that makes the most sense.

Either way, she pulls out a small strand of rope, already frayed, “Laurel snuck me this.”

“Smart, I didn’t even think to get you something like that.” you nod, “We’ll be up in a couple of minutes, so just stay on the platform. You’ll be brought up last, you’ll hear Caesar and the audience above you.” 

“Thank you.” 

“I’ll see you in a bit.”

You join Finnick back at the plate, stepping onto it and readjusting little things to make sure that they’re in place. Finnick does the same, as the minutes tick down. Before you know it, the anthem is blasting overhead. It’s only a matter of time, now. You’ll be on stage briefly, and then you’ll be sitting in the crowd.

You listen to Caesar greet the audience, and then slowly start to introduce Annie’s prep team. Cleo is up first, then Beth, then Leo. They don’t get extremely loud cheering, as they’re not seen as super important. They only handle hair and makeup, but they still get their own small spotlight. And it’s their second time, too. Elysia is introduced immediately after, you’re sure she’s thrilled that being in District Four is finally paying off.

Of course, Laurel gets loud cheering because she organized Annie’s outfits. You’re sure she’s dressed in black, that’s her go-to color. However, she’s very good at making it not look like a funeral color, and more of a welcome sight. You remember her telling you, once upon a time, that the color shouldn’t be frowned upon and exclusively made for funerals. Just like white, black can be made a bright color too.

You’re not entirely sure about that, considering that you’ve been to more than your fair share of funerals. She can think that the color can be reimagined into something that hasn’t such a dim meaning as soon as it’s seen. But in the districts, it’ll never be given a new meaning. 

You and Finnick are next. You can hear your name being called, a little echo following after. The crowd is already cheering loudly, just as you’re beginning to be pushed up. You wipe the grim look off your face, knowing that it’s not what the audience will want to see. Plus, you’re not entirely sure you want to spend the rest of the day in a bad mood. You still have hours of being around Capitol people ahead of you.

You blink and squint through the light, waving towards the crowd. You can hear your blood rushing in your ears, heart pounding loudly in your chest. You look over to see that Finnick has this cheeky smile on his face, and then he looks at you. It’s an immediate sense of deja vu that washes over you.

As the two of you come together, he holds his hand out for you to take. You slip your palm into his, and pull him to you a little bit to give him a kiss. He meets you halfway, and honestly, if you thought that the cheering before was loud, it gets louder. You smile against his lips, and he can’t help but to let out a little laugh himself.

The two of you meet everyone else at the front of the stage, waving and pointing to the people you recognize from the betting room. At the end, the prep teams lead the way down to the front row of seats, leaving the middle just for you and Finnick. Very last, so she has the entire stage to herself, Annie raises from the ground.

The crowd stands, so you stand with them. You clap, and when Annie has made it to the top of the platform, you go ahead and whistle. You can’t imagine how lonely it is up there, being by herself. Suddenly you’re more appreciative of the fact that the gamemakers gave you an opportunity to go home with Finnick. Imagine standing on that stage, knowing it could have been two.

You squeeze Finnick’s hand a little harder.

Annie sits in the white chair, hands dipping into her pockets. She nonchalantly pulls out her string and messes with it while her recap begins to play. And since all recaps tell a story, hers is ‘lone survivor’. It’s not a happy tale, as it starts with teamwork. She watches Marsh get beheaded in front of her, but the room falls silent when she slits Geare’s throat, and then attacks Sanguin. The recap ends with her on the roof, announcing her own win.

Again, the anthem plays. Annie raises from her spot in her seat, as you all watch President Coriolanus Snow come out from the side, with a girl trailing behind him, carrying the crown on a pillow. He stops in front of Annie, at an angle so that the audience can see. He carefully picks up the crown before placing it on her brow.

He moves out of the way, cheering erupts all around you. Annie places one hand in her pocket, the one that was holding the rope, while she waves with the other. She looks naturally happy here, you wonder how you’ll break the news to her that she won’t have a moment to think to herself after this. You and Finnick won’t be allowed to stay near her the entire night, you’ve got people to talk to, yourselves. 

Caesar finally wraps up the show, bidding you all a good night, with a reminder to tune into tomorrow’s final interview. It’ll be the last real time that they see Annie before the Victory Tour, as tomorrow the last glimpse the cameras will catch is her leaving the train station. After that, she’s in her own protective bubble, away from the cameras.

You all hurry to catch Annie behind the stage, singing praise to how well she did on stage, even if it was just sitting. She looked absolutely wonderful with the crown, Elysia doesn’t stop telling her that, even after you all get in the car. The ride to the Victory Banquet at the President’s Mansion is filled with pure instruction and warning.

“You’ll have a small bit of time to eat before you’re bombarded.” you say, watching as Elysia fixes little bits of Annie’s costume, “So, eat quickly and don’t grab rich foods that you know will make you sick.”

Finnick goes next, “They’re going to want conversation and pictures, so keep it brief and don’t stop smiling. If they offer you drinks, turn it down. There’s a hundred combinations they have, and not all of them are good.”

“We’ll come by every now and then to check on you. But we can’t stay the entire time.”

“You’ll do great.” Elysia assures her.

And just as promised, you leave Annie alone when you get there. Just like her, you and him don’t have much time to yourselves. So, you eat and talk at the same time, covering your mouth occasionally if you’re doing both. The food is rich, cooked perfectly, and delicious. Some food will melt in your mouth immediately, while others you have to chew it a few times before the flavor really kicks in. It’s a buffet, so just like this morning, there’s endless possibilities on what you can taste.

You and Finnick make your way around.

“About earlier, when you thank me for saving you–what were you thinking?” he asks, watching you.

You give him a smile, grabbing a bowl while you carefully spoon in a type of stew that smells savory. When you get the first taste of it, it’s not too thin, and it’s got a variety of spices, too many to think. It’s on the variety of overwhelming, but the thought of more makes your mouth water.

“When I stepped onto the platform, I remembered how I felt when I knew I’d be seeing you in mere minutes.” You look at him, “You were the first thing I asked for when I woke up, did I ever tell you that?”

“No, actually.” he smiles a bit, mirroring you, “If it makes you feel better, I asked if you were okay and alive.”

You laugh, he does too, “When I got on stage…” you quiet for a second, lowering the bowl, “I was relieved.”

“Me too.” Finnick says, “But I was also nervous about kissing you again.” you give him a look, “Honestly!”

“Right, Mister Casanova–”

“Oh, not this again.”

“–who had all the girls in high school wrapped around his finger–”

“(Y/n), it wasn’t like that.” his face is slowly turning red, adjusting his footing.

“–never had his first kiss before me? Okay.” you grin, watching him recollect himself.

As he takes deep breaths, the normal color of his face begins to return, “I never said that, all I said was that I was nervous to kiss you again. Because, you know.”

“No, I don’t know. Go ahead and enlighten me.”

He tilts his head, making a ‘seriously’ face at you. You’re thoroughly enjoying this, watching him explain his feelings. If this is how he gets every single time, you think you’ll have to do it more often. Find the deep things that he hasn’t told you just yet, and watch him get flustered when you pretend not to know.

“You’re telling me that you didn’t notice I liked you? I walked you home after school, in the rain, snow, sun. My mom gave you cookies, (Y/n).” He says, and you have to pause to think.

“I just thought you were being friendly.”

“We hung out everywhere.” he emphasizes.

And you guess he’s right. You thought that you and him didn’t hang out that often, but it’s a lot more than you can recall off the top of your head. You were so preoccupied in your own little bubble, worried about things back home and how they would get done, to notice that he was always there.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice earlier.” you tell him.

He shrugs, “I could always tell there was something on your mind.”

You smile.

Unfortunately, your time together, alone, ends there. You discard your plates and bowls in the proper places, knowing that you’ll be able to pick up more later if you have the time. For now, you talk to sponsors and important Capitol people. It’s mostly praise on how well your mentoring is, to get a tribute as dedicated as Annie is. But it’s also filled with pictures and polite smiles, pulling Finnick in close to join you.

There’s a few people that come around and tell you that they met you beforehand. Some of them you genuinely recognize, others aren’t as memorable, and you figure it’s because they came later. You remember all the faces blurring towards the end of the night. Mostly because they were drunk, dressed the same, and would talk the same before leaving.

You and Finnick work together to keep an eye on Annie. As far as you can tell, she’s holding up well. She seems like she’s comfortable, taking pictures and shaking hands. Elysia checks up on her first, and then comes around to you two to tell you that she’s feeling fine. About an hour later, you two become shields for her to allow her to recollect and start again.

She drinks water, you escort her to the bathroom, and help her pick out foods that will make her feel full. You vaguely know the tastes of all the food, and if you don’t, there’s papers that will tell her. Most of them are on point, some stray altogether. Annie seems to have fun, though, being able to pick her foods instead of having the Capitol regulate what she eats.

After that, you leave her again, wish her luck, and join Laurel and Elysia. They’re enjoying drinks with the prep team, who are all on the verge of making fools of themselves. Depending on the flavor of the alcohol, the color of the drink varies. You pick up a tall glass that fizzes that tastes like pineapple, lemon and orange. Finnick drinks a blue one that tastes like blueberries, blue raspberry and makes his face twist because it’s sour.

Some drinks go down like pure water, others make you pucker and cough from the intensity. Finnick will think that he’s strong enough to take on the drink that you just had, and then he’ll be subjected to the same burning sensation in his throat. You enjoy laughing at him after each time, until he finally learns his lesson.

As the night goes into morning, you and Finnick stop drinking and migrate around to say your goodbyes to as many people as you can before getting Annie with Elysia. All of you pile into the same car, where you’re brought to the Tribute Center. Immediately, Annie is brought to her room.

“We’ll see you tomorrow, just try and get some rest, okay?” you close her door, say goodnight to Elysia, and then you’re left with Finnick.

“Can I sleep with you tonight?” he asks, moving some hair out of your face.

“Yeah.”

You slowly undress, hanging the gold dress in the closet, dropping the shoes beneath it. In the bathroom, you shed every piece of jewelry into a single drawer, not caring whether or not it fits in. You don’t have to look good tomorrow, you won’t be on camera until you’re at the train station.

You clean your face, and meet Finnick in the bed. Slipping beneath the blankets, you lay on your back, closing your eyes as you allow the tension in your back and shoulders to escape you. Finnick comes into the room a couple of moments later, no longer wearing his suit, only his boxers.

He jumps onto the bed, making you bounce. You let out a laugh, watching him get under the blankets too. You let him pull you into his body, finding out that he’s a literal furnace. You’re not sure you’ll last too long with the blankets if he’s producing this much heat. Either way, you wrap yourself around him, feeling him pull you against his body.

“I’m so fucking tired.” he says.

“Me too.” you briefly squeeze him, “We’ll be home soon.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, “You smell nice.”

“So do you.”

He lets out a half-laugh, before the two of you fall into silence. And eventually, sleep.

–

The morning is chaotic, as you have to move quickly to get ready this morning. Finnick brought in clothes last night to change into this morning. So, while he gets dressed, you briefly pull on a shirt and shorts before going out to eat breakfast with Annie and Elysia.

Annie’s only given so much time. She practically inhales the stew and rice, not having any time to properly enjoy it before the prep team is appearing. Laurel isn’t here just yet, as always. On the way out of the room, Annie picks up a buttered roll on the way out, waving to you and Finnick. She disappears in the hallway, you can hear her door shut.

You and Finnick don’t have a load of time, either. But you’re still allowed to eat slowly and properly savor the taste. When you’re done, you tell Elysia that you’ll be out before Annie starts her interview, and then Finnick goes to grab today’s clothes. You disappear into your room.

You take a shower, which entails washing your hair and your body. You should’ve done it last night, but you were far too tired to actually do it. When you step out, the machines dry you from head to toe, hair included. You pull on skin-matching underwear, and then pull your hair half-up, letting the rest be down like normal.

Makeup isn’t a number one priority, so you settle for mascara. Cameras aren’t going to be focusing on you, as you said. Finnick is sitting in front of the window when you get back inside of your room. He briefly looks over his shoulder to see you, and then back out at the city. The sun is nowhere to be seen, even though it’s past afternoon time by now.

You get dressed in ripped black jeans and a pink shirt. The tennis shoes are also black, the ring blends in slightly, which is the good news. The bad is that you and Finnick are almost matching, because of the shirt he’s wearing. But instead of telling him to get changed, you sit on the bed and pull on your tennis shoes. The city looks fairly alive, considering that Annie will be on television in less than a half hour.

“I’ve been thinking.” Finnick says, you hum, not moving from your spot on the bed, “It wasn’t me that saved you.”

Your eyebrows draw in, “What?”

“It was you who saved me.”

“Finnick, you know how dumb you sound right now, right?” you start, “You saved me from dying–twice! You saved me from the stab wound, and then kept me from falling over the edge of the cliff.”

“But you’re the one who got us to the cliff in the first place. You knew that running headfirst into the careers would get us killed. You were the one that kept pushing on even though you were physically dying–”

“Which wouldn’t have been possible without you healing me!” you say.

“And you were there the entire time during the victory tour.” Finnick’s voice gets quieter, “You held my hand the entire time. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have made it through.”

You get off the bed and sit next to Finnick, taking his hand in yours. You say nothing, leaning your head against his shoulder. The two of you sit like this for a while, watching the cars dart around in the streets until you have to get up and be there for Annie’s interview.

It’s pretty uniform. You, Elysia and Finnick stand in the doorway, behind the cameras but Annie can still see you if she looks over. Caesar starts off slow for her, cracking jokes and keeping topics light. There’s a few questions he has to ask, which make your hands curl into fists, nervous if this will be what makes her break down. Especially the question about leaving Sanguin alive.

But Annie eases right through it, “I didn’t have to kill her, so I didn’t.” and then moves onto the next question without blinking an eye. It works like this, her answers are informative enough to make sure that Caesar can’t press on, but vague enough to not dig up memories. You’re proud of her.

It goes on for a little while more, as the questions have no set direction. You know that when he’s asking about the end, it’s almost over. So, you cross your arms, watching and listening to Caesar propose the question.

“When you saw the water coming, what was your intention, exactly?” 

Annie pauses for a moment, drawing her lips inward, and then she lets out a smile, “I was trying to run for as long as possible before I had to get into the water. I ran straight, because zig-zagging would only slow me down. And the further I ran, the more the height of the water, and really the intensity, started to lower.

“I got on the roof because I knew that it would be easier to swim to the top of the water from halfway, rather than the bottom. And the pressure at the bottom might have been too much for my ears. I waited until the water was right in front of me before I dived in, so that the impact wouldn’t shock me. At the top, all I had to do was coast and wait until something happened.” Annie finishes, playing with her fingers.

“So, you didn’t anticipate winning?” Caesar asks.

“No, I thought that the other tributes might have been somewhere safe already. That the water would eventually lower, and I’d go right back to trying to survive.”

Caesar smiles, “Which is why the announcement came as a shock.”

Annie smiles back, “Yeah.”

The interview is over. Caesar wraps it up, and the cameras are off. You can hear laughing, watching people hug. Annie raises from where she sat on her chair, and comes over to you and Finnick.

“Home?” She asks hopefully.

“Home.” you repeat.

Just before you all leave for the train, you collect anything that you might want out of your room. You find that the clothes you wore during the reaping are nicely folded and placed on the edge of your bed. You pick it all up, holding it against your chest when you meet Finnick in the hallway, looking the exact same way that you do.

You all meet in the front room together, where you go downstairs and out onto the street to see cars with blackened windows. Together, you, Finnick, Annie, Elysia and Laurel fit into a large car. Where you all assure Annie that she looks great, and that she answers her questions like she should’ve.

She gets a brief moment to say goodbye to Laurel, hugging her and thanking her for everything that she’s done so far. After that, you’re all brought onto the train station, where Annie waves goodbye for a couple of seconds, and then you’re inside, and the doors have closed.

“Holy shit.” you let out, stretching your arms above your head, “Glad that’s over.”

The entire train is dark for a couple of seconds, as you pass through the tunnel on the way out. As soon as light has filled the windows again, Elysia is bringing you all to the dining room to eat. It’s a big dinner, with plenty of courses. Annie seems to have it down by now, and she lasts all the way to the end before she’s full. You and Finnick picked at what you wanted, finishing up with the chocolate lava cake and ice cream.

After, you all sit on the couch together to watch a replay of the interview. Every now and then, Annie will admit how she was thinking of saying something else, and then will tell you what she could’ve said instead. Some of it is letting the audience down more slowly, other times it’s straight-forward and almost out-of-character. Like she’s trying to purposely provoke the Capitol into having an interaction.

When it’s over, you’re left to entertain yourselves. Annie says that she’s heading right to bed, and you and Finnick figure that it won’t hurt to do the same. However, neither of you are tired. For a while, you swing in Finnick’s hammock, talking to him about the boarding school and the schedule, how you’ll fit him in and what the teens will benefit from it.

“You think your brothers will kill me tomorrow?”

“We’ll just barely step off the platform and you’ll be dead.” you laugh, “You have no chance of even making it back home.”

“I think I can run fast.” 

You look over your shoulder, through the holes of the rope at Finnick, who’s watching you. You tilt your head, amused by the thought of him managing to outrun Reed, “I don’t think you’ll make it ten feet. He’ll just jump at you. What will you do then?”

Finnick sputters out a laugh, “Jump out of the way, easy peasy.”

You laugh a little too loud, covering your mouth. When you settle, you say; “I think they’ll be happy to see you again.”

You can hear Finnick get up, and you watch as he comes closer, standing next to you. He takes your hand in his, squeezing it, “Good, because I don’t plan on going away ever again.”

You give Finnick a soft smile, “I know.”


	11. Epilogue

There’s a certain sensation of satisfaction that goes through you while watching your brothers and sister dance together. How they’ll jump, and twirl, and light up when the music changes to one that they’re particularly good at dancing to. It’s good to see them so carefree. For once, the weight seems to have lifted off their shoulders. 

You smile to yourself.

You’ve spent months preparing for today, picking out flowers, tasting different cakes you might like, choosing a venue and how the decoration will be. Not to mention all the rehearsals, like the dancing and walking down the aisle. And it’s all finally paid off. The stress of planning a wedding is completely gone, you’ll never have to do this again, because you and Finnick agreed on forever.

He’s officially yours, whether he likes it or not. 

You watch as Reed offers his hand to Alyssum to take, so that he can twirl her and dance in a circle. Before she can take the offer, Mox sweeps in and places his hand in Reed’s. For a moment, Reed’s face twists, but soon they’re laughing loudly. Mox gets twirled, and they dance to the traditional music in District Four. As soon as their turn is over, they invite Alyssum in, where she’s practically thrown around. 

Her giggles make your heart flutter. Alyssum’s face turns a light shade of red, trying to keep on her feet. Everyone turns the other direction, and she seems to pick up the beat better. During the dance lessons, she had picked it up a lot easier than your brothers had. With practice, they got better, but Alyssum was naturally good at following the complicated steps.

Surrounding them are all of your friends from District Four. Annie and Mags are together with Anchor, in their own little circle. They might not be perfect, but they’re definitely making the most of what they know. Sometimes Mags will pause and hold onto Anchor from how hard she’s laughing, wrinkles appearing in the corner of her eyes.

Naida and all of her kids are here. Calandra stands off to the side with Amon and Naida–her parents–watching as Caspian tries to entertain his younger brothers. They want to dance, and then they want to play tag, and then they want to sit down and have more cake. It’s hard to keep track of them, since there’s three of them, and only one of him.

And the rest of the people at your wedding are loose friends known from high school, people like Mayor Burrula and his twin sons, or formalities. Naturally, you had to invite Luther and Scotch. Miraculously, they both decided to show up together, Scotch looks like he’s having fun, even if he’s spent most of his time sitting with Luther.

You play with a pure white napkin in your hand, folding it into a numerous amount of shapes while watching everyone. Somehow, it’s more exciting sitting off to the side, seeing the reactions of friends and family. Instead of actually partaking in the memory-making. You think that you’ve contributed to it enough today, considering that you’re the one that got married.

And almost like he can read your mind, Finnick shows up. He’s missing his suit jacket, you can imagine that he decided to throw it over the back of a chair because of how hot it is tonight. You were smart and laid out a separate dress, one shorter and not long-sleeved for the banquet. You knew that it would be hot tonight, and you didn’t want to spend the entire night fanning yourself.

He’s got his sleeves bunched up at his elbows, a button undone at the top, and a few curls out of place. There’s a giddy smile on his face as he comes closer. In his hands is the rose pink wine bottle that President Snow sent you two. You’re not sure how it happened, but word traveled to him, and he sent the bottle as a congratulations. 

“You look like you’re having fun.” Finnick jokes, pulling out a chair and sitting in front of you. He shoves the cork remover into the wood, twisting it a few times before he pulls it out. 

There’s two empty glasses that he pours the wine into. It comes out a pink color, too. When you lift it to your nose to smell, it’s sugary. Almost reminds you of the Ritchson Sibling’s drink at The Victory Speech. You and Finnick clink your glasses together before taking a small sip. The wine is almost irresistible, easy to drink the entire thing when it’s so sweet.

“I am, I promise,” you tell him, “I just like watching them like this.”

Finnick looks over his shoulder slightly to see what’s happening now. The group has opened up wider, allowing Caspian and the three boys to dance with them. It’s more chaotic than it was before, with the boys trying to keep up with the others. Still, they all seem to be having fun.

“It’s probably a relief, huh?” Finnick looks back at you.

You give him a warm smile, “Yeah, for all of us, I think. They don’t have to worry about me anymore. I have you, I’m going to be okay.” you pause for a second, “Alyssum on the other hand…”

Alyssum’s the next to worry over, and it’s only getting more the closer she gets to eligibility. Just a few more years and she can go into the Hunger Games. She’s already doing well inside of the boarding school, but you’re worried that you’re going too slow. And then you worry about her childhood and whether or not you’re going too fast.

You can’t win at this. You want her to be prepared, you don’t want her to live her life in fear and preparation for something that may never happen. Although, you never saw your reaping coming. You thought that you had gone through enough in your life, and you were still chosen.

“It’s going to be like this forever.” Finnick says, “Reapings, mentoring, coming home. Until the both of us have someone to replace us.”

“It’s going to be a while.” you tell him.

“I know. Doesn’t mean I can’t look forward to it. There’s a lot that I can’t wait for.” Finnick takes a sip of his wine.

“Like what?” You ask, eyebrows drawing in slightly.

“Too many to name.” Finnick waves it off, “I’ll forget some.”

“I guess you should start a list, then?”

It’s a joke, but Finnick sits there and thinks about it for a second, “Sure.”

You open your mouth, and then close it. Finnick reaches over towards one of the wedding notepads on the table. At the top has both of your names, as if someone will try and take one of these and bring them home as a souvenir. The only real reason you bought little things like this is because you have a lot of money that’s built up, despite using a good portion of it towards the boarding school.

Finnick picks up a black pen, and then writes at the top, ‘The Forever List’.

He doesn’t hesitate to get started.

–

The Forever List.

1\. Marry the love of my life.

2\. Be there for her.

3\. Attend her family’s weddings.

4\. Have kids.

5\. One boy/one girl.

7\. Watch them grow.

8\. None of them get reaped.

9\. See them get married.

10\. Have grandchildren.

11\. Grow old with the love of my life.

–

“Looks like you can cross one of them off.” you place your finger on the first one.

“Looks like you’re right.” Finnick gives you a cheeky grin.

He doesn’t cross it off, instead he stars it and off to the right, places today’s date. You stare at it for a couple of seconds. They’re all long-term goals, obviously. And some of them are vague, like ‘Be there for her’, since there’s no set time when that’ll happen. You guess he could star it when something hard happens between you two. Other than that, you’re not entirely sure.

Finnick then folds the paper into a small, neat square. He stands from where he was sitting, and holds out his hand towards you, “One more dance, Missus Odair?”

You give him a grin, taking his hand, “Don’t mind if I do, Mister Gallows.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter!
> 
> HOWEVER, the series is not over! There is one last part to Halcyon, and it's Aubade. I won't be starting Aubade immediately, because I'm going to do a spin-off first, Berceuse. Berceuse is connected to Halcyon but it's in an AU, it's not exactly canon within my universe. It just a what-if series in Alyssum's POV (it's NOT first person, it's third) that takes place in the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games. Hopefully, you can see where I'm goin with this >:)
> 
> Anyway, I'll start Berceuse sometime within the first week of March. For now, I'll be taking a much needed break. I enjoy reading your guys' comments, and I'm glad that all of you liked Redamancy! If you'd like to keep more up-to-date with me, you can find me on tumblr under the username 'ilguna'.
> 
> See you soon!


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